Adore You | ✔

Chapter 1

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The blood on the snow reminded me of crushed strawberries. Like the kind my little brothers would crush between their fingers. The red juice would dribble onto their shirts, leaving bright red stains. It was a strange connection to make, but nothing about this situation was normal.

Actually, the idea of crushed strawberries was probably the most simple thought I had in a long time. I almost wanted to laugh.

"Come on," a voice next to me whispered. Warm fingers brushed over mine. I felt as if I were tied to an anchor keeping me rooted to the spot.

I looked down at my shoes, wet with snow. A dark stain seeping up. My mom bought me these on sale. They were ruined now.

I bent over and threw up.

When I stood up I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve.

"Sorry," I said.

"You're okay. Come on," he said again and put his arm around my shoulder. I leaned into his warmth and let him lead me away.

Alexander Grayson was dead.

And I killed him.

—

One of my aunts once told me that you could never forget your first love. She told me: "If you made your life into a timeline, you would have two pivotal moments: before meeting them and everything after."

Of course, this aunt had a reputation for being good with men. To this day, I don't know if she was referring to her first husband or her fifth.

Jokes aside, she was right. Falling in love changes you. Especially the first time it happens. That first time, you blindly open yourself up to someone that will always have a home in your heart. 

My story starts the summer before my junior year of high school. I was 16 going on 17 and that year was one of the hottest summers on the east coast. Like fry an egg on the sidewalk hot. It was also the summer I was moving to New York to live with my dad.

My mother was a bundle of nerves, making sure everything was ready for my flight.

"Did you grab the paperwork you need to turn in?" My mother asked, coming into my room with a full load of laundry.

"Yes, and—" I continued hoping to ease her nerves. "I packed all my uniforms, my running shorts and running cleats, and three extra pairs of sneakers. So, to summarize, don't worry, mom —I'm set."

My mother sighed and smoothed the baby hairs that crowned my forehead, "I know I sound like a broken record. I am just worried you might forget something. You're already going to be nervous enough as it is. I don't want you to stress out on me."

She hugged me, "I am going to miss you so much," She said and kissed the top of my head.

My mom was nervous about me going off on my own. She wasn't happy to see me go. I was moving to live with my dad who was just starting his medical residency.  It was one thing for your daughter to be home alone in the suburbs. New York City was a whole different animal.

The thing is I had already made up my mind that I had to go. At the time I shared a room with my two brothers. Which was not ideal at my age. They were eight and loud, and I had a lot of homework.

Have you ever seen the movie Jumanji? The 90s one with Robin Williams?

Well, there's a scene where a stampede of wild animals bursts through the board game. That was my 700 sq foot apartment after my brothers were born.