♡AN ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS ROMANCE♡
Attending the same college is the only thing Sebastian Hutches and Tara Van Doren have in common.
To Sebastian, Tara is a rich, spoiled girl, obsessed with her looks and status.
To Tara, Sebastian is a rude, arrogant...
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They buried Sadie at a cemetery that resembles a garden. Rose bushes flank the chapel, but it's too early for the roses to bloom, just as it is too early for the rest of the flowers I know are planted behind the stone church.
"A day so sad shouldn't be this sunny," Evans says by my side.
Nash, another friend of mine, rakes his hand through his curly hair, sighing. "Poor Sadie."
"And Connor." Drew nods at Connor standing next to Sadie's grave, his broad shoulders slumped. "He fucking blames himself. Says he should've been there to protect her."
Brian walks over and joins our group. "Do you know anything, Bast?" he asks. "What if there's a psycho roaming the area? No girl is safe until they catch whoever did that to Sadie."
I shake my head. "My father says they're still looking into it. They'll tell us."
"Hope so," Brian mumbles. "I don't know what I'll do when Leah returns to class."
He's worried about his girl, just like I am worried about Tara. I look at her for the hundredth time today. She's with a group of girls, breathtakingly beautiful despite the sad expression she's been sporting since her friend died.
I take in her slim body in a modest black dress. Her blond hair is gathered in a sleek ponytail. She looks elegant and put together, and I don't know how to be there for her when she doesn't want me near.
I, not Kenny, should be by her side, but each day that passes, I feel more helpless. And that they're still keeping her in the dark for reasons my father refuses to disclose only adds bricks to the wall wedged between us.
Tara turns her head. Her blue eyes seek mine, but the contact lasts barely a second.
She's fighting the pull she feels toward me with the same strength I fought my attraction to her since the day she entered Philosophy class.
Only that I surrendered. Waved the fucking white flag and fell to my knees.
I doubt she will.
***
Standing outside Fashion Victim, I peer inside the boutique through the square window. Clay, the guy who works there with Kenny, is folding shirts. It's almost closing time, and I have no clue what I'm doing here. What the fuck will I even say once Kenny sees me?
It was coming here or drinking myself into oblivion.
I miss her so much I can't function.
None of my friends will understand me the way you might.
I think I need help.
Clay switches off the lights. I shove my hands in the pockets of my sweats and backtrack until I'm concealed by the shadows, far from the glare of the streetlight that'll give my presence away.
