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Chapter Four

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CHAPTER FOUR

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CHAPTER FOUR

I was only truly clued in on the significance of the consequences of my pretend summer when I was sat alone at the table of the only coffee shop in town, drinking a milkshake and feeling the stares of Luton's citizens. The judgement oozed from their eyes, craving the inside story of the 'break up' and forming assumptions of their own to sate their thoughts.

I swirled the straw around the chocolate beverage, trying my best to restrain myself from standing up and tossing the contents of my cup into someone's face for their blatent rudeness.

Even outside the camp, the capacity for any sort of manners simply didn't exist.

Not that mine was entirely the best either.

The skin of my knuckles turned white, tightening around the cup until the contents of the notice board snagged my attention, saving myself from a miniature explosion. More importantly, it was my face, and my awkward body slumped painfully on the couch back at the Black residence, exposing that I fit the sterotype perfectly of gays never being able to sit properly.

This is you before you join the Black Camp! Ps. Emma, get a date, your deadline is tonight.

Even if I wasn't physically there to be rudely looked at, they still had access to my face!

How violating.

I continued to gape even as a person took the seat opposite me, and I was only brought back to reality when deep chuckles radiated from the figure. When my gaze snapped to him, Walter slapped a leaflet down on the table and he grinned at my sudden pout.

"You match your image exactly," he said, eyes flicking from the picture and back to me. "At least she's promoting the truth, reality. She captures your... essence. Don't ya think?"

"She captures my worst and lazy self."

"The left side of your face?"

"Oooh burn," I complained.

"That's still reality," he sang, waggling his eyebrows.

"Gwen is a demon, a demon who has probably printed hundreds of these things already," I mumbled, relucantly placing both my feet on the ground instead of them positioned on the chair. It was better for my posture anyway. "Do I not have the right to privacy in my own home? Can't a gay girl sit in peace and in broodiness without the whole world knowing how I deal with a surprising turn of events?"

He shrugged. "It's not your home."

I gasped. "Your words wound me so, Walter."

In turn, he placed a hand over his chest. "Emma, don't make me feel bad."

"For rightfully insinuating that I'm not part of your family?"

"Yeah, that."

"I feel my tear ducts working."

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