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it really mattered. I mean he’s a teacher. Who’s he going to tell that you’re moving.”
I sighed. She had gotten caught texting me.
“No, I’m not mad.” I plastered on a smile. “He’s just a teacher.”
After I said this it wasn’t ten minutes before I felt the urge to throw up again. I mean, I had been nauseated for the better part of the morning but now I really felt sick to my stomach.
I asked to go to the restroom where I proceeded to toss up my makeshift breakfast. My prediction about today being bad was beginning to come true.
I’d been excusing myself all day to go puke and sometimes something would come up while others were just irritating false alarms. I didn’t like being sick. It was a sign of weakness and people tended to use advantage of it.
Like Rachel for instance.
When I entered the cafeteria she automatically turned her nose up at me.
“You look like a dog.” She commented, smirking a bit “Sick as a dog I mean. You’re not the only one who get’s American phrase wrong.”
Once. Once I had gotten an American phrase wrong, accidentally insulting her, and she was still holding a grudge.
Ignoring her attitude, I sat at the table and thanked those who signed the card in front of me. It was one of those singing cars, the one with the pink and purple animated animals. It was cute.
There were even cupcakes in the middle of the table, enough for everyone at the table and a few extras which Jack said I could take home. He’d thought of everything. He’d even claimed to make the chocolate cupcakes, which weren’t half bad. Chewy, but for someone who couldn’t really bake, he tried his best.
“I don’t see how you can eat that, Layla.” Rachel began. Again, scrunching her nose up at me. “All the calories that are in that thing. Or do you not care how fat you’re getting. I can’t be the only one that’s noticed.”
No, actually she wasn’t. But no I wasn’t concerned with how “fat” I was getting. Because I wasn’t. If she thought a few pounds were fat then she really needed a reality check. Her perception on fat was already distorted. She was pencil thin with long black hair cascading around her pale, fragile face. I wasn’t the one who looked sick as a dog. She was the one looking as if she was knocking on deaths door.
But because of her comment none of the girls at the table ate their homemade cupcakes, which I considered extremely rude and vindictive. The boys on the other hand, had no problem eating theirs and the four prissy girls half. They would’ve eaten the two Jack had saved for me if he hadn’t threatened them within an inch of their lives.
After lunch, Jack walked me back to the gym where he told me he’d keep the cupcakes with him while I was in class. He kissed me on the cheek then left me so I could change.
Murphy didn’t work us too hard which made me happy. She did make us run but since I had to stop every other ten minutes because I thought I was going to vomit, she didn’t make me run as hard. But even that made me tired.
Once gym was over, I headed to class only to be stopped by a man in a pink striped shirt and matching pants before I walked through Devin’s door. He was carrying a mess load of colorful balloons, most of which consisted of happy birthdays.
“Are you…” He pulled a small index card from his pants pocket. “A Layla Bungah?”
“Yeah.” I half smiled. “Why?”
“Over here boys.” He motioned for three men in matching outfits to come over. The first guy handed me the balloons then they all proceed to sing happy birthday to me. A light blush overtook my body as I looked towards Jack.
He crossed his arms across his chest in a satisfied gesture and I couldn’t help the laugh that rose to my lips. Again, sweet gestures like these made me realize just how good I had it with Jack. He really loved me.
I looked towards Devin, who didn’t seem too happy with all my happiness. I knew once class was over I’d get an earful on why I needed to break up with Jack.
As class ended I told Jack how I couldn’t go to his practice because I needed to get home for whatever my father had planned. I told the same thing to Devin as he asked me if I wanted to stay and help him grade papers.
“Don’t you want to hear about my plans?” He asked head cocked to the side.
I smiled. “You have plans?”
“Of course I have plans. Mr. Riley isn’t the only one that can be spontaneous. Besides, I’ve been planning this for weeks.”
“Weeks? I mean, I don’t mean to sound like I’m shocked or anything. I never doubted you’d do anything for my birthday but you…you really didn’t have to.”
“So Mr. Riley, is the only boy allowed to do anything for your birthday. I guess that make sense see as he’s you’re…boyfriend.” He nearly choked on the word. “But what does that make me.”
I thought about that for a moment. I hadn’t really been expecting anything from him because he was…what? Was he considered a boyfriend? It just didn’t sound right to say that about a twenty four year old man.
“I’m you’re fiancée and I deserve to be able to do something for you.” My eye twitched involuntarily which made him laugh. “Does that word bother you, Layla?”
I shook my head and mumbled a no.
“The word fiancée bothers you, doesn’t it?”
There was no use lying about it. My eye revealed my true feelings.
“Why? Why does it bother you? Why does it bother you that I could possibly love you so much that I want to be with you for the rest of my life?”
“I can’t have this conversation right now.” I told him “I need to get home.”
He sighed. “It’s because you don’t trust me, isn’t it?”
“That’s not it at all. Maybe you’re just not understanding the severity of the situation here. I’m not trying to argue with you, believe me I’m not. I’m just…”
“Not ready to trust that someone loves you.”
“I don’t want you to leave me.” I blurted. He looked at me strangely for a moment and before he could voice his opinions on not being like the other boys and the fact that he really loved me, I stopped him. “It’s not that I don’t trust you because I do. I trust your judgment, I trust your heart, and that’s one reason why I really and truly love you. But I don’t want to end up like my parents. My father trusted my mother. They trusted each other, and look how that ended. She’s dead.”
I took my cell from my pocket to look at the time. “I need to go or my father is going to be very upset with me for not keeping my promise.”
He nodded and let me leave.
On the way home my mind drifted back to that day. Getting the news, seeing her pale body lying on the slab. I just couldn’t handle it. Which was why I blocked it out again. I refused to think about her like that. That wasn’t the memory I wanted. I wanted the memory of the three of us together on my eighth birthday. Or hell any of the birthdays before she was gone. I wanted the good memories, not the bad.
So that’s what I thought about on the way home. The good.
When I finally got home and realized my father was the only one waiting for me in the living room, I was a bit confused.
“I…thought you needed me home after school.” I asked adjusting my bag on my shoulder. If I would have known nothing was going on I could have just stayed with Devin.
“There’s been a change of plans. Rebecca had to go into work and I really wanted her to be here for this so the party’s been moved.”
“I’m sorry, so…my birthday party has been bumped up because Rebecca had to work?”
I just wasn’t seeing the logic here.
“Well, she really wanted to be here for-”
“But I’m not understanding. So, does that mean the day just goes on like it’s unimportant because Becca says so or what? I mean, you didn’t even tell me happy birthday because you were rushing me out the house.”
I didn’t mean to sound spoiled and to be honest I didn’t think it was too much to at least get a happy birthday from my own father. Jack, the guy I was cheating on, did more in a few hours than my father was doing all a day.
He sighed, bowing his head. “It’s not like that, bud. It’s just that Rebecca is a part of this family too.”
“But what does that have to do with today? I didn’t even ask for anything. At all. I didn’t want gifts or a fancy dinner I just wanted to spend my birthday with my father.”
Judging by his attire I didn’t think I’d be doing that either.
“That’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I won’t be home tonight. Rebecca needs me at her business dinner tonight.”
Before I could say something that would no doubt get me grounded again. I just shook my head and shrugged. It was always going to be Rebecca now.
“Sometimes I wish…”
No, that thought was cruel. My father wouldn’t be able to live with himself if I even muttered what I wanted to say. “I’m going to my room.”
“I’ll be leaving soon, alright? I just need to finish getting ready.” He had stood up and began to walk to his room, though stopped in the doorway. “And Layla? Happy Birthday.”
I mumbled a thanks then went to my room where I could write in private.


Chapter Thirty
“So…they did nothing?” Jack asked as we walked to lunch.
I shrugged. “Not even when they got home.”
“And you were awake right?” He just couldn’t believe they would do nothing for my birthday. That didn’t even sound like my father.
“Yup,” I said popping the p on the end, again shrugging. “Sitting in the living room eating the leftover chicken from the night before.”
He just shook his head.
But it seriously wasn’t a big deal anymore. I had gotten all my screaming rage out about an hour after my father had left. There was no use in crying over something that I couldn’t help. I wasn’t the number one woman in my father’s life any more. I hated it but that just meant I’d have to change things about myself. No more depending on my father to do things for me.
Last night was an eye opener for me. I needed to be more independent. I was eighteen after all I needed my own life.
“I just can’t believe-”
“Well, believe it.” I snapped, though didn’t really mean to. It wasn’t his fault my father hadn’t done anything. He was the only one who actually went all out.
Which made me think about my and Devin’s conversation yesterday. It wasn’t so odd that he wanted to do something for me since he loved me. It actually made sense even if I hadn’t thought about it. Jack loved me so he did something, Devin loved me so he was planning something, my father loved me...
“Aren’t you glad you

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