Chapter 1

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Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading this! It took a lot of thought just for me to even post this on wattpad. I hope you enjoy the book and if by any chance you do, don't forget to vote and comment. Bare in mind that this is the first draft and there might be a few errors.  Please let me know if there are. Happy reading! Oh, and it's Madison beer as Aura Adams.

Of course this is copyright and you may not steal or copy. Please help us stand against plagiarism.

You're absolutely beautiful. Just wanted you to know that.

Okay, continue...

"Aura Adams?" My name slipped out uncertainly from the school principal's mouth. I turned around slowly, careful to maintain my composure.

"Yes, Mr. Gibbon?" I tried to keep eye contact, but his shirt was untucked and did nothing to conceal his huge, hairy, belly. He followed my eyes and looked up, his drooping cheeks turning dark with colour.

He cleared his throat and gave me a look of what I assumed was pity. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother. She was a good woman. I remember..." He was still talking, but I was done listening. He knew nothing about my mother. He didn't know she had been dead long before her heart stopped beating. He didn't know that the drugs in her life had finally done her the favour of ending it.

"Aura? Are you listening to me?" He touched my shoulder, his sweaty palm against my school blazer.

"Yes, sir. Thank you for your kind words." It was common courtesy to say that in reply. I don't mean one bit.

He nodded, pleased with himself. "Anyway, I came here to personally give you this." He pulled a piece of folded paper from his pocket and handed it to me. He gave me one last smile and waddled down the school hallway. I waited until he was around the corner before I opened the piece of paper.

"A request to see the school therapist?" I asked myself out loud. Was this about my mother's death? It's been one month since I found her lifeless on my bedroom floor, with a needle placed in her arm. I shoved the note in my bag and began walking to my next class.

"You're late, Ms. Adams." My Math teacher, Ms. Lowry said. I never understood why people always stated the obvious.

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry. I got held up in the hallway. It won't happen again." I replied, already taking my seat at the back of the classroom. She nodded, pleased with my rehearsed apology and began going over the introduction to Calculus.

I took down notes, but my mind wasn't on math. I took out the note from my bag and looked at the scheduled time for the appointment. It read 8:45. It was already 8:50. I jammed my notebook in the bag and stood up to go show Ms. Lowry the note. She let me leave, but not before letting out a long sigh.

For a place that was supposed to comfort people, the therapist's office only served as a reminder that going through a tough time was inevitable, I thought to myself as I took in the brightly-coloured walls and tissues on the wooden desk.

"Hello, Aura," Ms. Owen, the school therapist said, a huge smile plastered on her pretty face. She looked too young to be a therapist. "Would you like to take a seat?" She gestured to the lavender couch opposite her desk. I sat down, waiting for her to diagnose me as depressed or whatever.

"Why am I here?" I asked, trying not to sound rude. She seemed like a nice person, but I doubted she could help me with anything.

Her smile dimmed and she developed that same look I saw on Mr. Gibbon's face. "I heard about your mother and I wanted to find out if you were doing okay." The notebook in her hand meant otherwise to me. She was just doing her job. She didn't care, and if I was being completely honest with myself, I didn't care either.

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