Secondhand Smoke
- Reads 62
- Votes 18
- Parts 5
He was all that I wanted and all that I had.
Alex Lewis Caulfield. My boyfriend.
He was gorgeous, stunning, beautiful. And he was mine. All mine.
Or so I thought.
My life was being ripped apart bit by bit. The picket-fence dream I had was fading along with my hope.
I had always been the good girl that went home five minutes before curfew, that handed homework in a day before the deadline and that sat at home with her family instead of going out and partying.
I had been robbed of my teenage years.
And I wanted them back.
I wanted to stay out late, party all night, wake up with a hangover, feel buzzed as hell, kiss a stranger, drink some beer... Do all the things I never even dreamed of doing.
And who better to do it with than the boy with the tatted jeans and bloodshot eyes?
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