MR. PERFECTLY MINE BY NICOLE SEKULOSKI – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Nicole Sekuloski
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.6 MB
- Price: Free
ALISON
“I’m a fraud,” I say as I slam my notebook closed and lay my head on
top of it.
“No, you’re not,” my best friend, Willow, says as she grabs the
notebook out from under me and turns to the page I was just on.
I lift my head up and watch her face as she reads. Her long, wavy brown
hair falls into her face as she scans the page.
“Yes, I am,” I huff. “I’m a singer who writes songs about love who’s
never actually been in love.” I slowly slide my guitar down my legs until it
hits the floor.
“Ali, this is great. I think this could be your next big hit!” Willow
exclaims as a smile starts to take over her face causing her big chocolatebrown eyes to light up. “These lyrics are genius!”
“Yeah, but it’s not my story. I’ve never experienced that,” I say,
gesturing to the notebook she’s holding with my glittery green guitar pick.
“That doesn’t take away from the talent that you possess that allows you
to turn someone’s story into this lyrical masterpiece,” Willow responds,
pointing to the words on the paper. “That’s not something everyone has.”
“Wil, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but . . .” I start, but she
cuts me off.
“There’s no but. I’m not trying to do anything. You need to realize that
you have pure talent. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t experienced this or
that you haven’t truly been in love.” She pauses. “Or even close for that
matter.”
“Hey, wait a second. I’ve been close to love before.”
“Ali, thinking you’re in love with someone when you’re twelve because
he ate lunch with you everyday and would carry your backpack to class
isn’t love,” Willow points out as she grabs a chip from the bowl on the table
and takes a bite.
“Hey, he gave me a friendship bracelet for my birthday, too!” I shout,
grabbing the chip from her hand and shoving it in my mouth.
“That’s just infatuation . . .” she says through a mouthful of food. “ . . .
or hormones. You take your pick.”
I throw my hands up in the air and slam them down on the table. “Okay,
fine. I’ve never even been close to love. Which only adds to my point. I’m a
fraud.”
Willow rolls her eyes at me. “Okay, so you’re a fraud then. Now what?
Stop going on tour? Stop writing music? Stop writing songs that your fans
love? Songs that they constantly tell you help get them through things. Just
because you haven’t experienced love?”
I shrug at her as I reach for a can of Pepsi off the table. “Maybe,” I say,
as I pop the lid open on the can, relishing in the satisfying sizzle of the
liquid inside. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m pretending to be someone that
I’m not.”
I take a sip of the dark cola and let the bubbles tickle my throat as they
go down.
“Okay, fine. Then quit. Never write again. Be done with it,” Willow
states, her determined eyes staring me down.
“Maybe, I will,” I say as I stand up, grabbing my can of pop and
snatching the notebook from her hands.
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