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366 pages, Paperback
First published June 24, 2013



I think I feel the hem of my dress move, but it must have been an insect or a string breeze, because when I open my eyes there's nothing. The third time it happens I get irritated, and my eyes snap open to find Robert has lifted the end of my dress and is looking right up it.
"What does it look like?(...) I like your underwear. What kind of lace is it?""

"oh, don't be so melodramatic. I didn't violate you. Violating requires an action. I was simply enjoying the view." "You lifted up my dress. That's an action Robert." He scratches his jaw."Well now, you have me there. Aren't you flattered? I know some women who'd be over the moon to be violated by me."

"Sometimes you can be so deeply wrapped up in a person that the only way to deal with it is to use cruelty to push them away."

His words blindside me a little. I knew Robert has depth, but I hadn't known the true extent of it until now.

“I think about the factors that caused me to go into shock, and the little things that have been accumulating over the last few weeks. Like how I never get as much sleep when Robert’s in my bed, or how I’m so wrapped up in him that I don’t give enough care or time to my health or my sugar levels, or anything else for that matter.
I’ve said it so many times before, but he makes me forget myself, and it’s not all his fault. It’s not his fault I’m so in love with him that it makes me careless. That all I can think about is being with him, to hell with important stuff that could mean the difference between life and death.”











He continued moving his hand up my thigh and leaned his lips in close to my ear. I let out a tiny gasp just before he whispered to me, “You, Lana, are the ugliest girl I have ever laid my eyes on.” Then he pulled away and began laughing uproariously.
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We’re interrupted when Kara asks from across the table, “What are you two whispering about?”
“None of your fucking business, Boob Job,” Robert answers.

I think I feel the hem of my dress move, but it must have been an insect or a strong breeze, because when I open my eyes there’s nothing there. The third time it happens I get irritated, and my eyes snap open to find that Robert has lifted the end of my dress ever so slightly and is looking right up it. I stifle my scream.


When I glance down, I realise I’ve torn a chunk out of the frayed material on the armchair in my mum’s front living room. Sasha and Lana left for the beach two hours ago, and I’ve been sitting here all that time.











