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192 pages, Paperback
First published November 1, 2016
After the rape I didn't leave straight away. I was so shocked. I stayed in the bathroom with the door locked. I sat on the floor beside the toilet and felt the cold tiles against my legs, my toes curled on the ceramic floor.
The story, once I'd written it and read it over a few times, was like a testament to my own stupidity. How could I have been so naive, so swept up in my own romantic daydreams, not to realise that there was a subtext to what was happening?
"Harry just talked to me. He seemed interested in me, keen to see my sketches. He told me something very personal. I thought I was in love with this girl . . . I had to see her . . . No boy, not even Benji, had said anything that personal to me before."
"Why not? It’s raw now. I think about it a lot, but over time I will forget. This time next year it will just be a distant memory."