The Original Wattpad international sensation.
The story is simple.
Depressed boy meets crazy, possibly legally insane, girl at therapy and their whirlwind adventure begins.
Korin and Micha had only one thing in common: they had each discovered the...
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Things I've always wanted to say on Oprah:
You get a book! You get a book! You get a book! But not you, you're ugly.
Think I can do a back flip off this couch like Tom Cruise?
A car! Wait, are you paying the taxes on it?
Can I call you daddy?
"Damn it," I complained then dramatically threw myself on the floor. "I can't get this damn crossover!"
Micha started to laugh, giving me a golf clap in return for my effort.
"Thanks, do you need help?" I asked, looking over at her while she tapped her foot in unison with the finger she was tapping against her pouting bottom lip, which turned me on.
"Apple," she said. "Red."
"Er...okay. Wait, red?! Are you sure?" I asked, my eyes wide.
She smiled and nodded.
This was new and an improvement to her apprehension towards the color, and celebration worthy.
"I'll see if they have one in the kitchen," I said then hurried towards the door. "Do you need anything else?"
"Just you," she said then smirked, "wearing nothing but a smile and a bow...bow optional of course."
What was there to say in regards to that? Obviously nothing, so I laughed then headed down the stairs to the main level.
As I rounded the third story flight of stairs I ran into Carter.
"Hey, Korin, what's up?" he asked.
"Need a red apple for Micha."
"Ah, I've been meaning to ask you about that," he said, jogging down the stairs with me.
"About what?" I asked uninterested since I already know what he wanted to talk about, the same thing as every other goddamn guy at the Academy wanted to talk about: Micha.
"About that six-foot goddess of darkness you've been hanging all over," Carter said as if it were obvious, which it was.
"Hanging all over? You mean my girlfriend," I clarified.
When I said it aloud it sounded completely unfathomable and ludicrous, but it filled me with pride that rivaled that of a pompous blueblood asshole that just married a supermodel that doesn't speak English. "What about her?" I asked, going through the basket of fruit in the cafeteria.
"How did you manage that?" he asked. "The guys in band have a little bet going, and I'd like to win. Before I put my money down I want a little insider information, that's all. I'll split the pot with you of course."
