Curing His Love Allergy

Chapter 34 - The Rush

Hot tears flowed down my cheeks, anger and sadness bubbling through me. My mom was suffering, and I had no clue. France engulfed me in a tight embrace, letting me cry on his shoulder for as long as needed.

I didn't know how long I was there crying, but it must have been a while. I lifted my head from his shoulder, trying to hide my tear-streaked face from his view.

After he held my chin and lifted up my face, I proceeded to cover my face with my hands. "Stop," he whispered. "I want all the good and the bad." A chaste kiss was placed on my lips.

I could only imagine how horrible I looked in this moment. I yawned, and dare I say, in his face. I awkwardly looked down, and he laughed. "Go to sleep, Tiara. We'll figure this out in the morning."

I nodded, and he exited my room. I sighed, alas I was left alone with my thoughts.

As a distraction, I decided to check my phone.

I had several new messages.

Messages

Mia: Hey girl, you landed safely?

Dom: I left your house and am now at home. Text me when you get this.

Noah: Hey, I wanted to remind you about Juilliard. The deadline for applications is January 2nd, and the auditions depend on whether or not your application satisfies the admissions committee.

The last message startled me. Because I was so busy getting shot and finding out my dad is a piece of shit, I forgot about my dreams.

I didn't bother replying to any of my messages. I made a plan. I would start on my piece for the audition tonight and work on the application tomorrow morning.

I took a shower, then ran into France's room. When I opened the door, his light was off, and he was fast asleep.

Maybe I should just go to sleep too and stress about this in the morning. At least I have France to help me figure this out.

I made the small trek back to my room, trying my best not to wake anyone.

I plopped down into my soft mattress, ready to sleep my troubles away.

. . .

I woke up the next morning, rubbing the tiredness out of my eyes. France was sitting on the edge of my bed with my phone in his hand. "Hey," I called out to him.

He cleared his throat, "Juilliard sent an application reminder," he whispered.

"I know, I wanted to work on my piece for the audition tonight. But first, I want to go to the brothel. And for Juilliard, I decided that I want to get into the music theory and composition major."

"When are you planning on working on it?" he asked, stretching his hand above his head.

"I was thinking at noon today?" I asked.

"Girl, it's past noon. Check your phone," he said in his duh tone.

I sloppily reached for my phone underneath my pillow, shifting my weight to the right side instead of the left. I glanced at the screen and saw it was 3:25 PM. Shoot, I wanted to go to the brothel before nighttime and then, in the night, work on my audition piece for Juilliard.

I jumped off the bed and basically dashed into the bathroom. France laughed at my clumsy attempt to run.

I took a small bath and brushed my teeth. I exited the bathroom about thirty minutes later, only wrapped in my fluffy white towel. France, sitting on my bed, raked my body with his eyes. A small smirk lifted upon his lips.