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Amazing picture of Grace to the side made by 1olMichelle. Thank you; I love it so much! x

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Chapter Thirteen - Tutoring Cole Adams~

            As soon as I got home, I raced upstairs, threw on a pretty sundress, and French-braided my hair into a side bun. I wasn’t sure why I was changing for him—it’s  not like I cared for his opinion—but I just felt the need to pretty myself up.

            I put on some lipgloss, organised the materials I would need, and then heard the doorbell ring.

            I gasped and looked out my bedroom window. Standing there, hands in his pockets and looking awkward as he rocked back and forth on his heels, stood Cole Adams.

            I raced downstairs and opened the door just as he raised his fist to knock—nearly knocking me out cold.

            I stepped back just in time. He muttered an apology and glanced down the street.

            "Hey, did you bring everything you’ll need?" I asked, shifting nervously on my feet.

            He patted a satchel strung over his shoulder. I opened the door wider and gestured for him to come in. Call me prude, but the idea of being alone in a house with Cole Adams seemed wrong and inappropriate.

            He came in and looked around the grand foyer and the elegant staircase. I was suddenly self-conscious of my house, even though he had been there just the night before. My cheeks flushed as he looked at a picture of me at seven-years-old, with two missing front teeth and bright blonde pigtails.

            He followed me into the living room, and I sat down next to the glass coffee table, where I had everything set up for our tutoring session: pencils, pens, highlighters, books, scrap paper, etc.

            I still didn’t want to do this, but I felt sorry for Cole, and I felt I owed him this after everything I did and the knowledge of the accident with his sister and mother.

            He unpacked what he brought and laid it next to mine on the coffee table.

            "Can I get you anything?" I asked, twisting my hands nervously in my lap."Coffee? Tea? Water? I think we have apple juice and orange juice, if you want."

            "I’m fine, Grace," he said. "Thanks, anyway."

            I peered at him curiously. "What’s with you? No snappy comebacks? No sarcastic comments? Is this the same Cole I used to know?" I pressed a hand to his forehead. "Are you sick?"

            I realised what I was doing and my eyes widened marginally. I went to drop my hand, but he caught it, holding it in between his. He examined it; the ring with my birthstone—sapphire—the freckles on the back of my hand, the crescent-moon nails.

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