Status: Completed.
False Pretense
First year of college; who wouldn't be excited? But for Katryne Turner, it's about something else entirely.
Nine months ago, Katryne lost her father to a drunk driver. Breaking a once happy family and leaving them in shambles; they never fully repaired from the damage.
But when she crosses paths with a particular boy who has a few secrets of his own, well, she's in for a world of experience. And that's what college is about, right?
Nine months ago, Katryne lost her father to a drunk driver. Breaking a once happy family and leaving them in shambles; they never fully repaired from the damage.
But when she crosses paths with a particular boy who has a few secrets of his own, well, she's in for a world of experience. And that's what college is about, right?
-
One.
It was only a matter of time that somebody could be so miserable they were due to explode, right? -
Two.
Just what I needed: somebody to watch me sulk and be so lonely they'd wonder if I mistaked the dorm for an asylum. -
Three.
For the past nine months I had developed into this false persona and I didn't know where the fake Katryne ended and the real one started any longer. -
Four.
I hadn't been away from my mother for more than an hour and I was already doing something that she wouldn't have liked. -
Five.
The look on his face wouldn't leave my mind. -
Six.
His head trip was really starting to bother me. -
Seven.
He was staring so intently again I could've sworn he was trying to make implode with his thoughts. -
Eight.
And as we stood there, I could have sworn I felt a hot tear land on my neck. -
Nine.
I mentally slapped myself for coming with Tre. -
Ten.
Six beers, four cigarettes, and one inside joke later, Billie Joe and I were lounging on the floor of their basement. -
Eleven.
But if we were going to be getting along from now on...well, it was only a matter of time until we had to tell him, right? -
Twelve.
I looked up at him for the first time since I started talking; his eyes were soft and kind. -
Thirteen.
I groaned loudly and contemplated running up there to beat his ass. -
Fourteen.
I felt as guilty as I was and never wanted to see anybody ever again. -
Fifteen.
I looked down at my feet, contemplating whether or not to tell her what was actually wrong. -
Sixteen.
Why did he always look adorable when he just woke up? -
Seventeen.
Nothing like guilt to prove you're alive. -
Eighteen.
I was taken aback by his sudden outburst and it took me a moment to realize what was going on. -
Nineteen.
Final words.