Yours, Unexpectedly by Rachel Lewis EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Rachel Lewis
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.4 MB
- Price: Free
ANOTHER MARGARITA PLEASE
BEX
MAY.3 YEARS AGO
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“He’s not doing great in New York. I think I’m going to try to convince him
to come back here.” Gabe’s voice has always carried, so I don’t think I’m
actually eavesdropping. He just needs to learn how to keep his voice down.
“What makes you say that?” Dad asks.
I lean in closer, unsure why I care so much about Gabe’s response.
“I’ve never seen him this bad—”
“What are we listening to?” Ben questions, scaring the shit out of me.
By the time I tune back in, I’ve missed the answer.
DECEMBER, PRESENT
“Excuse me?!”
I think I’m hallucinating, because there’s no way my advisor is just now
telling me that there’s been a mistake. A massive mistake. A mistake of epic
proportions that I really do not want to be worrying about right now. I lean
forward, attempting to massage the stress headache away.
“I’m very sorry, Ms. Bardot. This is my fault, and I take full
responsibility. I’m not quite sure how this slipped through the cracks. The
good news is, there’s one open course for the spring that will fulfill the fine
arts credit that you need to graduate,” she states, her eyes boring into me
with the hope that I won’t go complaining to the dean about this “little”
mistake.
“Fine. Sign me up for that course. I am graduating this spring, dammit.”
I pause. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t cuss in here. Darn it?”
Whatever. I need to get out of here before the walls close in on me—a
claustrophobic feeling is beginning to crawl up my spine.
“I will say, this course is—”
“Do I need it to graduate or not?” I snap. She nods. “Then sign me up.”
I’m so close. So close, I can taste it. What’s one more class in the spring
semester of my senior year of college? It can’t be that bad, right? I’m just so
ready to graduate and get the hell out of Sassafras, the ridiculously named
town where I have lived my entire life. I’m desperate to find my own
footing somewhere where everyone doesn’t know who I am. I stand
abruptly before she can give me any more bad news.
“I’ll get an email confirmation with the course and building?” I ask as I
gather my things.
“Yes…” she says, hesitating.
“Okay great. Have a lovely winter break!” I add, trying to summon up
some holiday cheer. She presses her lips together with a nod.
“You too, Ms. Bardot. Apologies again. We’ll make sure you cross that
stage in May.” She pushes back from her desk and walks me to the door.
When she shuts it, I stick out my tongue, stomping my feet like a small
child.
Breathe. It’s fine, Bex. It’ll be fine. We can worry about it in January.
We will not let this ruin our holiday. Okay, I’m talking to myself, time to
walk away. How bad can it be? I know things about art. Picasso!
Surrealism! Warhol! All of this sounds vaguely familiar. I’ve even been to
the Met several times.
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