Louder Than Words

I thought I’d hit rock bottom when my dad died. 

I was wrong. 

I never dreamed my mom would choose drugs and alcohol over me. 

I was wrong about that too. 

I thought teachers were there to instruct, to guide, to counsel. 

Wrong doesn’t begin to describe what nearly happened that last day of my Junior year. Lesson learned; trust is for suckers and actions speak louder than words. 

New plan. Keep up my grades, earn a scholarship, tuck into as tight a ball as possible and roll on out of this town and this life. 

But this boy, this Casanova transplant with a funny accent, who’s way too charming to be healthy for a girl... Why won’t he let me be? 

I wish I hadn’t let him in on my secrets...well, most of them. 

I wish I hadn’t grown to look forward to our daily walks to work. 

But mostly, I wish I hadn’t freaked out when he tried to steal a kiss. 

Maybe I wouldn’t be parked in the friend zone. Maybe he wouldn’t be dating a girl I loathe. Maybe I wouldn’t be in this hell of wanting what I can’t have but having what I thought I wanted—to be left alone.


Want a playlist? You got it:

Reader Guide for Book Clubs? Click HERE.

For a short story that was the kernel of inspiration, go to my "sister" blog:  Claire Gillian:  The Word Busker and read "The Check".  That will give you a taste of what our heroine is up against.

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