Nine Days (Unfrozen Four Book 1)

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I can do it, if you want,” Aaron offers. That’s weird. Aaron never does anything for a girl, not since his ex-girlfriend fiasco anyway. Winter, was it. God, of course. Aaron knows Lily. He was dating her best friend after all.

My heart beats a little bit faster as I come to realize that this floor doesn’t just look like I could slip on it. It is a whole ass slipping trap. Well, if it makes you feel any better, Colin and I are just friends, and I am not sure there would ever be anything more between us,” I tell her. I mean, I can’t possibly tell her that Colin and I would never be a thing because I will be dead in the next ten days. But regardless of my death, I don’t think I’m Colin’s type. And without my unalive journey 101 we would have never even gotten in touch in the first place.Jesus, Lily!” A very angry Winter calls from my room door. She is interrupting my precious time writing my goodbyes.

Instead of reading it myself, perhaps I should hand this notebook over to the counselor. What do I do? Ay, Colin. I had no idea you were stopping by this early.” A woman, I would assume around forty-five, steps into the room, looking a bit startled. Her hair is blonde, but it’s obvious that it has been bleached before. Okay, it would not be too visible if her roots weren’t dark. I’m assuming she had no time to get a touch-up. Come to think a catchphrase such as “Nine, Nine” from that TV show Brooklyn 99 would be great. Maybe like a “Trews!” you know, pleasing our college since it’s called “St. Trewery University” Okay, no, that’s just as stupid as roaring. If only I could be mad at her for it. Winter has been my best friend since freshman year of college. More or less a good one. We happened to be roommates, and as fate takes us, we remained roommates up until senior year. Good thing now is though, we no longer share one room. We have separate ones, with one living space, a shared kitchen and one bathroom. It’s not too bad.One time, I was about sixteen years old, he pushed me as far as to vomit on the ice during practice. He made me practice with his team. It was an honor to be there. But I was sixteen, not even close to those guys’ age. They had way more experience. They had way more training than I ever had. And sure enough, my stomach couldn’t take it anymore and I was emptying my guts on the ice.

Now, which ones?” I ask Colin. He laughs like he has no idea either. “Well, I can’t just take spaghetti’s when your mother cooks lasagna.” It’s only a matter of time before the school’s counselor comes marching in here, making me see yet another shrink. Or worse, sends me off to a mental hospital. Can he do that? I mean, he’s just a school counselor after all, and I am twenty years old. I have a say in what’s happening to me, right? Nevertheless for my taste some details like relationships between characters could have been made clearer from the start but you could also easily follow as it is. Furthermore there were a few too many things going on beside the main plot and the train of thoughts from the characters were a bit repetitive. He has always been protective of me. Always made sure the guys I’ve been with weren’t some criminals. I always thought everyone knew how to make lasagna,” I tell him. All I get in response are a few fast blinks. Like he is trying to make sense out of what I just said. Maybe he feels like I called him stupid. If so, he can gladly feel that way, because I did. “What’s your favorite kind of noodles?”

Eventually my depression got the better of me and I gave up on skating. I made up excuses to Aaron as to why I couldn’t show up. I never told him the real reason. I know he would have understood, he would have dropped everything to be with me and make me feel better, but I didn’t want him feeling bad for me. Darkness has always been in my life. It sort of makes sense that dark eyes seem more trustworthy to me when all I’ve known my whole life was the dark. The mystery it brings and, as weird as it sounds, it brings me comfort. Jesus, Lily,” Colin says, a hint of worry sounding through his voice. He approaches me again, kneeling down. He takes my hand in his. “Breathe,” he tells me. No seriously? Thanks. “You’re okay, nothing is going to happen.” The mint green notebook is staring at me, screaming “read me.” I know I shouldn’t, but c’mon, as if I could keep this book with me for what? Days? And not look inside at least once.