DARE TO LOVE by Lylah James EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Lylah James
- Language: English
- Genre: Erotica
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Three and a half years ago
“MOTHERFU–” My mouth snapped shut before I hissed out another painful
breath as my knees threatened to buckle under me.
The coffee table stared back at me innocently, and I glared in response.
Little shit. I gave it a kick, with my uninjured leg, just for the heck of it.
My morning was a mess already, and I fought the urge to take out my
anger on the coffee table. Granted, it just bruised my knees, but in reality, the
fault was mine.
My alarm didn’t go off, which obviously meant I woke up late. Very late.
First period classes had already ended, and it was halfway through second
period. Then, in my struggle to get dressed hurriedly, I ended up tearing a
hole in my white and pristine school blouse. Great. What a lovely morning
Scrambling away from the little table, I ran out of my grandparents’
house and quickly locked the door behind me. I had to catch the bus in two
minutes, or else I was going to be mega-late. The next bus wouldn’t be here
for another thirty-five minutes.
As I ran to the nearest bus stop, I quickly went over my morning list in
my head. Four very important things. Phone – yes. Earphones – yes. Keys –
yes. My English assignment – yes.
Everything seemed to be in order. Now, I just had to make it on time for
my third period class, so I could submit my English essay on time. Or else…
I shook my head, refusing to even think of the consequences. My heart
started to race and beat erratically at the mere thought of getting a zero on
No way. It would ruin my perfect record of straight As. My grandma liked
to joke and say I was paranoid and a little too OCD about my marks. My
grandpa, with a proud little laugh, would say I was a perfectionist. They
weren’t exactly wrong.
My perfect GPA, plus my thousand hours of community service and
volunteer work, would get me into Harvard. And it was all that mattered.
Harvard was my path. It was my destination, and it was where I belonged.
Maybe my grandparents were right. Maybe I was obsessed with the idea of
“perfection.” But I didn’t care. If perfection would get me everything I
wanted, then Miss Perfectionist I’d be.
The bus came on time, and I successfully climbed in without any more
bad luck. My favorite seat at the back of the bus was waiting for me. It gave
me the perfect view of the whole bus, and it was a window seat. Once my
earphones were in, “Hands to Myself” by Selena Gomez started to blast in
my ears. I leaned my forehead against the cool window and watched the
This was probably my favorite part of my morning routine. I’d always
been an observer, and one could learn a lot in a ten-minute bus ride.
Not long after, the bus came to a stop, and I walked out; I stopped on the
pavement for the briefest moment to stare at the large and old, yet hauntingly
beautiful and fancy, building in front of me.
The Berkshire Academy of Weston.
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