Falling for Seven Read Online Free PDF Page A

bag and skates.”
    My dad huffed, getting bored with me already. “You don’t need to have this attitude.”
    “It’s not an attitude, Dad. It’s me.”
    “Ah, living up to the stereotype, I see.”
    “Why do you hate her so much?” I stared him down: his golden-blond hair neatly combed over, and his sharp blue eyes. His crisp black shorts and ironed baby-blue polo that I was sure he wore for the sole reason it matched his irises. No one would ever be as good as, or as perfect as him. It was an impossibility. Even his sneakers were too white. Those things would blind you if you looked directly at them. Were football coaches even supposed to look this put-together?
    “Who said anything about hate?”
    “You hate that side of me.”
    “I do not hate anyone. I barely knew the woman, not the real woman. I also won’t stand here and lie. I don’t like her one bit, and I’m sure even you don’t need to question why. But I certainly do not hate you.”
    “So stop acting like you do. You couldn’t have been happier when Movida died, that’s the only reason you paid for her fancy care. With pops money,” I dropped in.
    “That’s where you are wrong.” My dad grinned. “I’d have brought Movida here with you, and then I wouldn’t be washing my own dishes.”
    I got up off the couch. I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. “That was an asshole thing to say.”
    “Angel, it was a joke!”
    Well, Dad , you are anything but funny.
    I locked myself in my room and rived at my clothes, throwing everything into a heap on the floor. Sometimes, I really couldn’t stand him. He was unbearable. I spent the next fifteen minutes almost burning under a blazing hot shower. It would never wash it away, though. It never made a blind bit of difference. I would get out, my skin would cool down and I would still be a part of the same messed-up family, living out every day as one huge farce. It was inescapable—he was inescapable. He had too much inheritance and sickly charm, exactly like a spoiled teenage kid. Well I was eighteen now, and I’d meant what I said to him; I was going to move into the dorms. He could stick his fancy house and his racist attitude. He could stick it all up his shiny and polished ass. I smiled uncontrollably while I brushed the knots from my hair.
     
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    The first thing I done Thursday morning was lug everything I needed to my new home and left my dad a note pinned to the fridge. Oh how I would have loved to be a fly on the wall to see his face when he got home to read it.
    Marilyn was in class when I turned up, leaving only her roommate, Mia, to welcome me with wide-open arms.
    Or not.
    Mia was… different. She didn’t speak and she didn’t appear to be thrilled that I was bunking with them. I tried more than once to start a conversation—mostly out of politeness—but she wasn’t having any of it, and so I gave up, resigned to the fact that she was a mute and hadn’t fully acquired the correct skills to act human. It was cool, though. If anyone understood the need to be left alone, it was me. Together we were a perfect pairing. At least until Marilyn came back.
    Forgetting my iMac at home, I threw some pens and books into my backpack and rushed out to my first lesson, Sociology. I wasn’t late and I found a space near the end row at the back of the auditorium. I took out my book and a pen, idly scrolling my name waiting for the class to fill up. I sent a quick message to Marilyn : Mia is a pip! Why didn’t you say so? x
    And then I heard him, my smile falling to the floor.
    He lingered in the doorway, joking with two other guys of near enough the same build. They looked like they could be some of his teammates. When they disappeared and he turned to come into the class, I put my head down, praying he wouldn’t see me. I rubbed my fingers over my hairline, shielding all view of myself. A whole minute had passed and I ruled it safe to look up.
    “Hey.” He was sitting right next