Patch Up

Hi!

Last September, my first New Adult Contemporary novel, PATCH UP, was released. I'd like to share with you the first chapter. I hope it'll make you want to read more. Thank you for taking the time to check it out. 

(Patch Up is available on Amazon, B&N, Itunes.)

Chapter 1:

I hate winter. Even with my red Converse on my feet and careful steps, I found a way to fall outside of the dorms. Now my ass hurts, and I can still hear the giggles of a couple dozen witnesses in my head.

After all, I’m not that surprised my second semester of college started like this. I’m not even angry or ashamed; I just don’t care that much anymore. Not many things bother me these days. In fact, only two things: lame jokes about my name and my academic marks, which I want perfect.

In the freezing air my breath creates white puffs of smoke. I glance at my cell phone and realize I have only ten minutes before my Psychology class begins. I can’t be late. My feet pound on the ground half covered by snow melting fast. I’m already out of breath even though I’m not a smoker, or an athlete for that matter.

With my eyes on the ground, I don’t see the group of students coming my way. I cringe when I hear laughter. Adjusting my dark green scarf around my neck, I glance at them. Suddenly, I don’t feel how my ass still hurts, how my cold, damp jeans are clinging to my backside, or how my bag is too heavy on my right shoulder. My heart is beating louder, almost painfully in my chest. My breath staggers and my eyes stop cold on him.

Neat blue jeans, black coat, and a night blue scarf around his thick neck. Unfortunately, his baby blue eyes don’t brighten with recognition or anything. His thin lips are in a straight line and his slightly crooked nose is red from the freezing air.

On the contrary, the two other guys seem delighted to see me. I walk faster, ignoring them. I can’t look at him any longer, not after ... I just can’t.

“I heard that the Force wasn’t with you this morning, little Skywalker,” one of the guys says, almost unable to mutter a word because of his laughter shaking him.

Two guys high five, but he says nothing. He’s not even following what his buddies are doing. He’s only focusing on the girl who must be his latest lay. I walk past them and open the door of the building where my psychology class takes place and inhale deeply. My hands are shaking in the pockets of my black leather coat. I’d love to think it’s from the cold, but I know it’s from seeing him. When will I be able to ignore him like he does with me? When will I just forget? That’s the thing. I can’t forget.

I follow the flow of the last students walking in the huge room for my course, Introduction to Psychology. Hands down, this class is my favorite one. The room is already packed, so I’m fuming because I can’t go and sit in the middle where I blend in with the other students.

Without paying attention to my surroundings, I turn to my left to walk toward the row closer to the door where a seat is available. I take a step and collide with a hard body, almost toppling me over on the ground for the second time in less than an hour. A strong hand grips me firmly by the forearm. My body stiffens and my breath catches in my throat. It’s as if I can’t move besides yanking my arm free without looking up to see who I collided with.

“Are you all right?” he asks me in a deep and calm voice.

My eyes wander from my red Converse to his dark boots. I have to calm down. I’m being ridiculous. Calm down. I take a deep breath and look up slowly. Long, muscled legs in beat up dark blue jeans, an old black leather jacket open over a dark grey V-neck sweater that showcases an impressive tall body with broad shoulders and finally, longish and messy black hair, perfect straight nose, full lips, high cheekbones and expressive soft dark eyes that lock with my bluish-greyish ones. He looks older with his goatee perfectly trimmed. A perfect hot mess many girls would say. I’m just intimidated by this stranger, though.