Really?

So it’s supposed to take 5-7 days for my novel to ‘go live’ on Amazon. Really? I guess I never actually expected to take 7 WHOLE days.
To tide you over, I’m going to give you PART of the first chapter to enjoy.

PULLED

Chapter 1

Naya

The alarm screams in the darkness, ripping me from another night of torturous sleep. Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I try to push away the relentless nightmares that have managed to find me even here: miles away from my past.
But then I remember where here is, and more importantly where I am not. I have escaped from their spiteful glare. Today, I am officially a college student. A wicked grin spreads across my lips.
Waking up in the solitude of my dorm room feels like compensation for the last few years with the two of them. Hell, I would have been willing to live in a triple-room with the most obnoxious of roommates (instead of the single my trust-fund afforded me) if it had meant getting out of my foster home even one day sooner.
Yanking off my covers, I pull down my T-shirt which has managed to worm its way up my chest during the night into an obnoxious clump, giving the illusion of a grossly mutated third breast.
After an unbelievably selfish amount of time under the scalding hot water, I pull my bathrobe tight around my waist and wrap my hair in a towel. Naturally, my room is the furthest away from the bathrooms, so my feet make quick strides to make it back to the warmth my room promises.
I fumble around outside my door for my keys inside my bathroom caddie which is crammed full of my essentials: Tom’s Organic Peppermint Toothpaste, my favorite lavender body lotion, toothbrush and hair brushes.
Another girl passes me in the hallway as I finally find my keys. We share a quick nod with each other before I let myself in.
Unfortunately, it’s not as warm in my room as I would have hoped, so I re-adjust the strings of my bathrobe which have come loose, exposing my goose- peppered skin to my unmade bed.
Opening my closet I ponder my first day’s wardrobe selection. Jeans, jeans or jeans? Opting for a dark blue pair in an attempt to hide my growing hips, I also pull on a dark plum, long-sleeved cotton v-neck. Dark colors do nothing to hide my overt paleness, but I haven’t worn light colors since…, well, a long time.
Tucking a stray strand of my too-straight, too-black hair behind my ear, I grab my coffee mug and head out the door. The caffeine will have to get me through the morning, since I’m way too nervous to eat anything.
My heart is fluttering as I walk toward the brick building that will house the majority of my four years of college: Stanley Hall. I stop in mid-stride to take in its beauty. The theatre complex is nothing if not intimidating, easily living up to its proclamations of being ‘the largest theatre campus in Northern New England.’ Standing in front of it now, self-doubt begins to consume me.
“You made me give up Florida State for this?” a voice whispers in my ear.
I just about jump out of my skin. “Seth! You scared me!” I scream, punching him lightly on the arm.
“You know it’s not nice to hit,” he says, pleased with himself.
“Sorry. I’m just a little…intimidated at the moment,” I say, tucking that same damn strand of hair behind my ear again.
Seth just laughs at me. He takes my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. “Hey, remember what my dad says.

‘Never let them see you sweat,’” he says before he pulls me in close to his chest.
“Right,” I say, putting on a brave face. Seth hates to see weakness in people. Especially in me. “I should go.”
I push him away gently and turn toward the theatre and take my first tentative steps before I am struck by a thought. I turn around and find Seth still there, smirking at me.
“What are you doing here anyway? You don’t have any classes today.”
“I know,” he grins. “I just wanted to see my girl before her first class.”
Or check up on me, I can’t help but think, but I smile, because a smile is what he expects.
“You’ll meet me for lunch and tell me all about it,” he says, before he presses his cool lips to mine. I nod in understanding before he lets my hand go.

 

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