Note: This version of the story is a draft. The complete book has been published in ebook and paperback and available for purchase :)
Tessa O'Connell is a girl with an unbreakable spirit and a strength that will get her through anything. Her goal f...
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
(Want to get your own PHYSICAL copy of The Bad Boy's Girl? Read till the author's note to find out more hehe)
Chapter Eight : The Guy's Still Got The Perceptiveness of Roadkill
Unlike the first crush of my preadolescent self, the one and only Troy Bolton, my head is definitely not in the game. I've been staring at the blank screen of my desktop for a good fifteen minutes before a not so gentle shove pulls me back to reality. Lo and behold, Leila stands towering over my in her six inch deathtrap heels and hands me the brown bag from our nearest deli. Today I'd had to sacrifice my pride and beg her to get me lunch because I couldn't be bothered to move from my desk.
I feel sick, like really sick. My head and body feel weighted, my eyes haven't stopped watering and I've been through half a box of tissues to make sure I don't have snot running down my chin. Worst of all it's as though someone shoved a dozen knifes down my throat and they''re constantly scraping my skin. I'm not sure how I caught the bug or what I did to offend my otherwise impeccable immune system but I'm suffering and from the looks of it Leila isn't in the mood to be my Florence Nightingale.
"No offence," she starts, sounding like she's thoroughly going to enjoy insulting me, "but you look like shit."
I do definitely look like shit but it's Friday and I dragged myself to work thinking that I could survive a single day before holing myself in all weekend but I think I overestimated myself given the amount of work I've done today.
"Thanks," I sniff and reach for the soup she's brought me. But even after handing my food over, Leila doesn't move.
"So you're just going to stay here till 5pm?"
"That's the plan,"
"You'll stay here with your sick germs?"
My shoulders drop and I put my beloved chicken noodle soup aside, reluctantly turning towards her. "If there's a point you're trying to make please make it quick. I'm missing out on nourishing my soul right now."
