TBPA summer edition gold medalist 2016.
Alistair Flynn is a walking anxiety attack/accident waiting to happen.
Ridden by nightmares and peer pressure of being the jock of the block, his life takes a confusing turn when a hazel-eyed boy invites him...
Pre-author's note: Right, I put in an important part in the previous chapter. Alistair was supposed to make out with Dite and almost get into the furthest base, but I forgot about it and I thought there wasn't enough space.
There is now.
Anyways, carry on.
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My dad's unresponsive.
He's been unresponsive for the past few weeks and I don't know what to do. My mother's hopeless. My sisters are hopeless. The doctors are hopeless.
I am hopeless.
His skin is thawing beneath the heat of the blanket, battered mauve and black. His eyes are tied up by the lash. He's dying and I don't know what to do about it.
He's not allowed to die. I won't allow him to die.
I stand up from the edge of the chair I've been planted on day in and day out, tendentious to my recent discrepancy. Fixing my hair, I push the door escorting me to the halls fitting over each other like shoelaces.
The walls are battered up with pictures. Kissing pictures. Pictures where Dani's grabbing me in full throttle—I didn't even go beyond kissing.
She was the one touching me. I didn't even want to kiss Dite. She kissed me and she's haunting me. I feel guilty—I don't want Dominic to know about Dite. If he finds it out, he'll kill me—or not.
It's unfair that I'm trying to be someone I'm not and no one even wants to lift a hand to help me with this decision.
I don't know who I am.
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The day's gorgeous, the skies are a cobalt dome enclosing the farm. The trees woke up from perishing, carrying so much blossoms and fruits.
You always appreciate your own bed after spending so much time at someone else's.
