Sweet Dandelion - Page 1

Blurb

Dandelion Meadows is cursed.

Horrible name.

Horrible luck.

At eighteen she should be headed off to college, all smiles and naivety.

Instead, a victim of a school shooting, she’s starting her senior year in a new city and living with her brother.

Nightmares of that terrible day haunt her, affecting her daily life and the relationships around her.

Forced to meet with the school counselor, Dani finds him chipping away at the walls she’s built around herself, and even her heart.

Lachlan Taylor doesn’t know what to make at first of the broken student he’s tasked with helping. She’s survived a trauma he’s not sure he can save her from, but he knows he has to try.

The more time they spend together, the more they learn about what it really means to live.

Some things are forbidden.

Some things are necessary for survival.

Their love is both.

Prologue

“My sweet, Dandelion. May you always be as free as the birds, as wild as the flowers, and untamed as the sea.”

I close my eyes, feeling my mother’s fingers glide through the strands of my hair.

It’s a familiar sensation.

“I love you,” she whispers, pressing her lips gently to my forehead.

Her tears fall onto my skin.

I love you too.

Shots ring out again.

A thump.

And then nothing.

Chapter One

I pick at the chipped yellow nail polish left on the edge of my fingernail.

I can’t even remember when I painted them. There’s barely any left.

Across from me there’s one window in the room. It should open easy enough, and if not I can throw the chair against it, hopefully shattering it quickly.

There’s a door at my back, but the window … that’s where I would escape.

“Are you listening?” My brother’s tone is nothing if not exasperated with me.

I feel bad for him.

He’s only twenty-five.

And now he’s my guardian.

“S-Sorry,” I stutter, forcing my eyes away from the window.

Clearing his throat, the principal leans forward. “This is your schedule.” He slides the paper to me and I rub my finger against the smooth surface. He’s an older man, his face lined with wrinkles like he’s laughed and smiled a lot in his lifetime. His hair is speckled heavily with gray, but with the underlying hint of brown still there. He laces his fingers together, laying them on the wooden table in front of him. The gesture disturbs the perfect straight line a stack of folders was in. I itch to perfect it once more. “We’re aware of your situation, so we’ve made provisions for you to spend your fifty minute daily period with our school counselor, Mr. Taylor.”

I look at the wall, at the thick-framed college diploma, then the icky dull colored painted vase of flowers hung beside it. What a bland room to have to work in. I would lose my mind.

“Dani,” my brother prompts, desperation in his tone. “Is that okay with you?”

It’s not, but in the last nine months I’ve learned to do what makes everyone else feel better. I don’t think anything can heal me, but if it’ll make Sage happy I’ll do it. Even if all the therapists and counselors I spoke to in the hospital couldn’t help at all. They tried, but they didn’t know how to get through to me, and I didn’t know how to tell them it was impossible.

I nod, resting my elbow on the arm of the chair.

“That’s fine.” My voice is soft, deeper than it used to be. There’s something missing from it and I haven’t been able to figure out what it is.

Perhaps it’s innocence.

The principal, Mr. Gordon according to the plaque sitting dangerously close to the edge of his desk, starts going over more things but I’m not listening.

It’s not that I mean to ignore him, but I find myself retreating more and more into my head. It feels safer here, but it’s not. It’s not safe anywhere. My brain is full of terrible memories, while the world is full of terrible people who do horrible things, every single day.

Principal Gordon finishes his speech and holds out a stack of papers to me.

I don’t lift my hand to take them.

Sage grabs them instead, shaking the principal’s hand. He stands and I follow suit.

“We hope you’ll enjoy your time here at Aspen Lake High.”

I don’t respond. I don’t even force myself to give a tiny smile. Frankly, I don

Tags: Micalea Smeltzer Romance
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