47 Things (preview)

Chapter 1

SPRING 2010

HOW WOULD you even write the sound that spitting makes? Pttoohey? Tchoo? I've never known. But, it's a sound that's always caused my throat to constrict and my stomach to sour every time I've heard it. So much so, that I'd tend to close my eyes and turn my head as a revolted shudder ran through my body. It's a reaction I've always been unable to control, and on this particular day in my life, it was both the worst, and the best reaction I could have had...

Walking up the university's pathway, there was a bounce to my step as I clutched my books and folder to my chest, inhaling the warmth of the aromatic October air. Spring had arrived, and I was ready to complete my degree in physiotherapy at Sydney University and embark on the next phase of my life – a phase that would see me helping people heal their bodies, instead of dealing daily with the sports focused jocks who were walking up ahead of me. They only cared about athletes and football stats. And they drove me insane with their noise, and their competitive muscle flexing. Although, I wasn't going to let them bother me any longer, not when I was so close to donning that cap and gown and skipping off into the sunset to live my awesome life jock free.

Tchoo!

I knew it was probably one of the jocks up ahead responsible for that horridly disgusting and unnecessary abomination of a bodily function. Again, I reminded myself that I wasn't going to let them bother me. But, that dreaded sound turned my smile into a downward curve as the bile rose in my throat. I closed my eyes, trying to control the visceral reaction I was having by focusing on placing one foot in front of the other and pretending I wasn't disgusted to my very core.

As my foot hit the concrete, a soft squishiness beneath the sole of my favourite pair of ballet flats tilted me off balance, causing me to let out a yelp as I tipped forward. To save myself, my arms shot out, flinging my notes and books in a fluttering snowstorm of papers around me as I stumbled forward, my foot twisting, my shoe remaining stuck to the pavement. I went down like a sack of potatoes and landed on the hard concrete with a thump.

"Fucking. Arse!" I growled, as my nerve endings caught on fire where my knees had dragged along the rough ground.

Trying to right myself, things just got worse as pain radiated up my leg from my ankle. "Fuck my life," I grumbled to myself, feeling my eyes begin to sting as I sat in the middle of the pathway with grazed knees and hands, a missing shoe and a mess of paper around me. I was a very undignified Cinderella.

I held back the sob in my throat and ignored the sting still pushing at the back of my eyes, as I tried to rectify my situation by reaching out to at least put my shoe back on. Then things just got worse.

"You can't be serious!" I moaned, as I lifted my shoe and dragged a long string of green gum along with it. Muttering to myself, I found a piece of blank paper in the mess and did my best to remove the offending goop. "Who the fuck spits gum on the pavement anyway?" I complained, balling up the paper and adding it to the mess beside me.

"Ah, that would be me. I'm so sorry. It will never happen again. I...I didn't think," a male voice said from beside me. I had a pretty good idea who it was and did my best to keep my head down and turned away from him. I'd avoided talking to him for this long. I didn't want to ruin a perfect four years.

"Just leave me alone," I said, hurrying to collect the papers around me so I could get away from him.

He began to help. "Are you OK?"

Fighting back tears of anger, frustration and humiliation, I shook my head. "Of course I'm not OK. Just leave – you've done enough," I responded, trying to pull the pages from his obscenely lovely hands. I always hated that about Tyler Lohan. No matter where he was, or what he was doing, he always looked perfect, right down to his lovely fingernails.