Table of Contents
To be loved
Credits
Newsletter
Intro
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Two years later...
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Epilogue
Thank you
TO BE LOVED
LAURA PADDICK
Cherry Publishing
First edition November 2020
© Cherry Publishing
71-75 Shelton Street, Covent Garden, Londres, UK.
ISBN 978-1-80116-049-0
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, companies, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
“I keep hoping he will do something disgusting, something that will make me hate him forever. Instead, I love him to death. I love him so much that his absence makes my body ache and his presence makes it ache even more. This forsaken love is like a bear trap. Sharp, stifling and painful. I walked right into it on the day I met him and it has been crushing me to pieces bit by bit ever since. I constantly try to free myself but the more I try, the more it rips me apart. I long for freedom, but I can’t seem to let go of my need to be loved by him.”
Chapter 1
The party was going well until he showed up. All the boys were pushing the girls into the swimming pool, and all the girls were running after the boys to throw buckets of water over their heads. Add a great amount of alcohol into the picture and you get the best university party ever! It was only eight o’clock and I had already drunk three beers and two vodkas. Jessica Pearson, the most popular student on campus, always had the best place to party at the end of every trimester. As soon as her parents were out of town, she would invite hundreds of us to party at her house, or should I say, her mansion. Not only did they have a swimming pool, they also had six bedrooms, two living rooms, a bar the size of a nightclub’s and land as far as the eye could see. It was the place to be for every student. I had already been to two of her parties and I was looking forward to another memorable night out with my friends.
Yes, everything was going swimmingly until Mister Heartbreaker turned up. Chris, his name was. Chris Downes. As he entered Jessica’s house at eight thirty, the whole world stopped and stared. He was the new kid on the block. I noticed him about a month ago when he arrived late to our Economics class. Mr Hutchins, the grumpiest teacher on earth, didn’t even complain when he barged in, interrupted the lesson and slammed the door behind him. I don’t know what it was about him… Maybe it was his cheeky smile or his seductive brown eyes. All the boys wanted to be part of his gang and all the girls wanted to be his sweetheart. But I didn’t like him. He was rude, noisy, provocative and greedy. In class, he would get the girls to do his work and the boys to take part in his inappropriate pranks. Once, he embarrassed a girl – who had graciously given him the answers during an exam – by stealing her mobile and reading out dirty texts she had received from her ex-boyfriend. And yet… she willingly forgave him! Unbelievable!
When he showed up at the party, he enjoyed all the attention everybody was giving him. He was the king the moment he stepped through the front door. I stayed clear of him all night. Well, I tried to... Somehow he just kept getting in my way. When I got myself another drink at the bar, he was there. When I went for a quick dip in the pool, he was sitting on the side with his feet in the water. When I was dancing to Bruno Mars with my friends, he was imitating the singer’s moves in the music video Uptown funk. He was everywhere. The girls were fighting over who would dare to ask him out; I couldn’t care less.
As the night grew older, students were gradually falling asleep or having sex. All six bedrooms had already been filled, so some of us decided to sleep under the stars on the freshly cut grass or in tents. I had brought my little green one, but with hardly any light and my head spinning every two minutes, I regretted not putting it up before sunset. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one, so it wasn’t too embarrassing. We all realised that four o’clock in the morning was the worst time to get our tent instructions out.
Insert tent poles into the corresponding flaps.
Oh gosh, they all look the same, I said to myself. I took a wild guess, and with a bit of luck, I managed to find the right poles for the right flaps.
“Do you need some help?” asked a virile voice behind me.
“Yes please,” I said, “it’s time for me to raise it and I need...”
I stopped speaking as soon as I recognised Chris Downes’ face. Nobody could miss those big brown eyes. Even in the dark.
“Erm, no… I’ll manage,” I said.
“Come on, let me help you,” he said as he kneeled down next to me.
“I know this tent like the back of my hand, I don’t need your help.”
I pushed a pole through a slot and it suddenly ripped part of the material at the top of the tent. I could see in the corner of my right eye that Chris was watching me.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t rain or you’re going to get wet!” he said with a smile on his face.
I didn’t answer and got on with the job.
“I’m Chris,” he said as he put his hand out to shake mine.
“I know,” I answered while ignoring him.
“And you are… Amanda?” he asked.
“How do you know that?”
“Olivia told me.”
Olivia! She can never keep a secret! Not that my name is a secret but I certainly didn’t want him to know it.
“Come on, let me help you,” he repeated.
I simply nodded. W
e managed to bend the poles which allowed them to straighten up, and the tent finally looked like something I could sleep in. Thanks to a torch Chris had found, we pushed a few metal stakes into the ground and covered the tent with a rain guard. At last, I could go to bed.
“So which side do you prefer?” Chris asked me.
“Sorry?”
“I prefer the right side, but if you do too then–”
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked him. “You think that because you helped me out, you can sleep in my tent?”
He smiled, expecting me to say “Of course, take the right side!”
“I should have guessed that’s why you wanted to help…” I said. “The answer is no.”
“Don’t be such a prude!”
“I’m not a prude! And besides, there’s only room for one person.”
“It says in the instructions that it’s a two person tent…” he said, pompously.
“It’s not!”
I got in the tent and callously wished him goodnight before zipping the front up.
“Prude!” he whispered, before walking away.
“I’m not a prude!” I shouted, waking up all the sleepyheads.
I hated being called a prude. Chris wasn’t the only one who had called me that. Jessica Pearson also had during the first university party I went to. That night, I didn’t want to take my t-shirt off in the course of a game of strip poker. I was eighteen and I hadn’t drunk quite as much as the rest of the students. When I was nineteen, I went to another of Jessica’s famous parties, and that night, one of the geeks named Tommy labelled me a prude because I hadn’t put my bikini on, unlike all the other girls. I had a bit of a cold and I didn’t feel like going for a midnight swim, that was all. Now, I am twenty and somehow I still come off as a goody-goody!
The next morning, partygoers gradually woke up and returned to the bar for pancakes and orange juice. Some were still very chatty, and others hardly spoke a word throughout the whole brunch. Chris, as you might have guessed, was babbling away to some girl at the bar about his wonderful night under the stars. I, on the other hand, had a backache due to the uneven ground. I slowly crouched down next to my friend Olivia on a big red sofa and tried to find a comfortable way to sit.
“What’s wrong with you today?” she asked.
“I feel like I slept on two or three mole hills!” I answered.
There was hardly any room left on the sofa, which made the struggle even greater to find comfort at the very edge.
“So…?” she asked, full of excitement.
“What?”
I looked at her and she winked back.
“Are you aware of something I am not?”
“How did it go with Chris last night?” asked Olivia, smiling away.
“What do you mean?”
“Come on Mandy, you can tell me…”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“I saw you last night! He helped you put the tent up…”
“…Then you must have noticed that he didn’t come in. He slept outside.”
“Really? Why?”
It seemed hard for her to believe that I didn’t want to sleep with an arrogant show-off. I didn’t bother explaining what happened, as her mind seemed to be transfixed by his good looks, never mind his appalling personality. Instead, I helped myself to some orange juice and watched the world around me wake up. Everyone looked a mess, except for Jessica who had had a shower and had put on clean clothes. The rest of us still stank of alcohol, fags and chlorine. There were paper cups everywhere and flies were hovering over leftovers. The fresh pancakes were delicious though.
“Here, try one,” I said to Olivia after spreading strawberry jam all over it.
“Oh no, I don’t like pancakes,” she mentioned.
“Really? I have never known a person who didn’t like pancakes...”
“I have never known a girl who wouldn’t sleep with Chris!” she fired back.
I should have seen that coming.
“Stop making a big deal out of it. He’s not my type, so what?”
“He’s perfect!” said Olivia. “Look at his gorgeous blond hair, and his big brown eyes. Not to mention his muscular body!”
I took a closer look at him while he was sitting at the bar. I suppose you could say that he was handsome, but as soon as he spoke, it broke the whole illusion of the sweet, perfect guy. As he was taking a sip of orange juice, he unexpectedly turned his head and looked straight into my eyes. Shit! I thought as I quickly turned away. I took a bite of my pancake to look busy, but the strawberry jam slowly started to slide out of the bottom and a few blobs fell onto my white t-shirt. When I realised it, I looked up again and saw that Chris was still staring at me. He smiled insolently, then returned to his discussion with the girl next to him. Great, I thought, not only does he think I’m a prude, now he also thinks I’m sloppy!
I ran straight to the bathroom before anyone else noticed my stained top. Luckily, a bit of warm water saved the day. The blobs were still there but they had faded so much that no one could spot them. While I was slowly walking back to the bar, waiting for my t-shirt to dry, I heard two lovers in one of the bedrooms. I guess they were having sex, since they were making a hell of a noise. I knew at that moment that I should have kept walking down the corridor but my curiosity took over. I wanted to know who the two students were, so I stepped back in front of their bedroom door and pressed my ear against it. The bedsprings were squeaking. There were whispers, heavy breathing and the odd sigh of pleasure from time to time. Alas, it wasn’t enough for me to recognise the two lovers. I was about to walk away when I saw Chris standing at the other end of the corridor, watching me tiptoe pass the door. He caught me off guard and I stopped moving immediately. We stared at each other for a few seconds without saying a single word, then he slowly walked towards me. My heart was pounding and I didn’t know whether I should move or not. I was confused about what he saw and what he must have thought of me. He came closer and simply whispered in my ear.
“I knew we weren’t that different.”
Chapter 2
Turning eighteen was truly a blessing. It allowed me to leave home, leave my family and leave the school that I had hated for years. There were too many obligations and too many unwanted roles to fill such as the daughter, the sister, the youngest, the pupil and the nice girl. Since then, two years at university had already broadened my mind to who I could be. I had been the cool roommate in an apartment of five students, the apathetic cashier at weekends, the unmotivated waitress during the week, then the nineteen-year-old who could buy whatever she wanted including g-strings and red lipstick, the studious student, the weary-with-a-terrible-headache student after a night of heavy drinking, and the girl who always dated one man at a time. Now, I am in my twenties and I am still discovering who I could be. F.Y.I, I am not a prude.
My current apartment was like a tiny heaven in the middle of a monumental mess. It was on the fourth floor of an eight storey brick building in the town centre. Outside there were noisy drivers, pollution, never-ending high buildings and crowded markets full of demanding customers. Inside there were plants, colourful carpets, plenty of light and photos of my friends all over my bedroom walls. I shared the place with two other students, Hannah and Michael, two respectful and funny roommates. They were both two years older than me, easy-going and they would help me out with anything. Usually we all had very different timetables, so we rarely saw each other in the week. However, at weekends, Michael would take us through hidden narrow streets of the city, brimming with painters, musicians, artists and writers. When I got back from Jessica’s party, they were on their way out to those special avenues.
“Just in time Mandy!” said Michael. “Want to come with us?”
My back was still giving me a hard time and taking down my tent earlier that morning had made it worse.
“Sorry, not today,” I told them. “I need some rest.”
; “How was the party?” asked Hannah.
I didn’t know what to answer at first. I still pictured Chris staring at me in the hallway. An awkward feeling about the party haunted me ever since.
“Okay,” I said. “Maybe I could tell you more about it later, I’m too tired now.”
“Very well, catch up with you for dinner?” suggested Michael, gently patting my shoulder.
I nodded, smiled and as soon as they left the apartment, I crashed onto the sofa. It was going to be a humdrum Saturday for me.
According to Cinderella, a dream is a wish your heart makes. I wondered how she came to that conclusion. I dreamt for hours about exactly the same thing over and over again, and I certainly wasn’t craving for it to happen. In my dream, I could see Chris glaring at me in that dreadful corridor in Jessica’s house. I was petrified. And suddenly, a pancake fell from the ceiling and strawberry jam splattered all over me! What a nightmare! I was happy to wake up and make the most of the rest of the day while the sun was still shining. It was only the second of April and it was unbelievably hot. It must have been a world record. Unfortunately, because of the global warming that had been getting worse over the years, no climate change really surprised us anymore. The heat had become normal, even for us English. I took a quick shower, filled my tummy with a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches and stepped out into the urban mess. I walked around the busy city for a couple of hours to get some “fresh” air, then I met my roommates in a famous Italian restaurant renowned for its tasty lasagnas. Hannah and Michael soon took my mind off the strawberry jam nightmare thanks to their funny misadventures of that afternoon. I laughed so much I could hardly breathe. Hannah and Michael were such lovely company. They never judged anything or anybody but they would make fun of each other with so much compassion. I lost count of the number of times Michael would have to take his glasses off, due to an overflow of tears of laughter! When he wore them, he looked like a valiant Clark Kent. When he didn't, his face seemed much thinner and fragile. As for Hannah, laughter would cause her to constantly brush her golden hair away from her face with her fingers. At twenty-two years old, she already had quite a few wrinkles around her eyes. I was sure that most of them appeared because of Michael's jokes and tales! I often wondered why my roommates weren’t a couple. They got on perfectly; it looked like they were made for each other...but I never asked in case I ended up rocking their peaceful boat.
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