Miles From Kara Read Online Free PDF Page B

if his skin felt as warm as it looked. I wanted to trace the lines of his tattoos. I wanted to hear and feel his breath on my face. I swallowed hard, my resolve to be the good girl my mom raised me to be faltering. And then Olivia’s door opened and we jumped away from one another, me rushing for the fridge, him ducking back into the common room. Olivia stared between us, her eyes wide, but she didn’t say a word. She knew me too well to ask. But if she had, what would I say?
    I had no idea what I was doing. I only knew that it was wrong. So, so wrong.

Chapter Six
    â€œOh, good, Kara, you’re here,” Tori said, rushing up to me at Helping Hands. It was a Friday, and my lightest class day—only one real class and a lab—so I agreed to stop by when Tori called to say they were slammed. As I looked around the overrun waiting room, I’d say that was an understatement. “I know you just started a few weeks ago,” she continued, “but do you think you could talk with some of the college kids who are pretending to be depressed?” She nodded behind me to a group of college students with dramatic expressions, all moping around like the world was about to close in on them. “Most are girls who didn’t get into the sorority of their choice, so it should be easy.”
    I ran through my training with Tori from a week before, the background check, the application to become a student counselor. Only two practicum students were legally allowed at the center, and we had to prove that we were working toward becoming certified in the field. All other counselors at the center were degreed and certified. Per Tori, I could talk to college students and teens needing an ear to vent, but should the conversation move to anything serious—depression, suicide, etc.—I had to call in a trained counselor.
    â€œSure,” I said, though I felt nervous. I had only shadowed two counseling sessions, and though I remembered what to say, I didn’t feel like I knew at all how to help anyone. I mean, what if the person melted down? What if she asked my opinion on something I knew nothing about? Still, I couldn’t say no to Tori after she’d been kind enough to let me volunteer there. “Where do you want me?”
    She spun me around and pushed me toward the door to the back rooms. “Room Three. Hurry. I might explode if they break down into tears.” I grinned, surprised to hear Tori making fun of them, but I supposed when you saw people on the verge of true mental breakdown, a little college drama did seem trivial in comparison.
    I opened the door to the third room to find a small desk with a chair behind it, a box of tissues, a notepad, and a pencil on the desk itself. In front of it sat two chairs with a small table between them, another box of tissues in the center. Hm, I guess there was going to be a lot of crying going on in here.
    I set my purse on the desk and reached for my phone to check the time, only to find a new text from Colt.
Why doesn’t anyone here say
arvo
? I mean, don’t they realize how looong afternoon sounds?
    I laughed.
Because
arvo
isn’t a word, crazy. We use real words here in America. You might join us, mate.
    We’d been texting like this since the night of the party three weeks ago. I told myself it was only friendly banter, but really, I found myself giddily checking my phone several times a day, hoping to find a message from him.
    You mean real words like
ya’ll
and
ain’t
and
yonder
. Where the hell is yonder, anyway? Is it a nice place or a pisser?
    I burst out laughing at the same moment that the door to the room opened. I quickly texted back a smiley face and
Gotta run
, then slid my phone back into my purse. I set my purse down on the desk and looked up to take in the person entering the room. It was a girl who couldn’t be any older than me, and sure enough, she looked as though she might cry any second.
    I