Windows Away

By Sabrina Vereb

Aimee Little has grown up around love her whole life. Her parents, brother, and even her best friend have found someone. When she is crushed by it, she vows to never love again. With the help of her family, friends, and the annoying boy next door, she learns about true love—God’s love for us. She learns that if love comes from God, then it isn’t a bad thing. Can she open her heart in time to find her happily ever after?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Feb 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781973652359

Sabrina Vereb

Sabrina Vereb has been writing since she was a little girl. This is her first published book. She lives in SC with her husband, daughter, and 3 pets.

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 Sabrina Vereb.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9736-5234-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-5233-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-5235-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019901019

WestBow Press rev. date: 02/11/2019

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

May (a few months later…)

Graduation Day:

About the Author

To my daughter. I believe all of my stories come from God. You are by far the best Story He has given me.

To Joshua. Thank you for always believing in me and helping me pursue my dreams.

I love you both.

One

Monday, August 6th,

Love is a fleeting thing. It comes and goes. It leaves you broken and alone.

At least it does in my experience.

It’s been a year since Trevor dumped me for some chick at Dexter high. Apparently she is head cheerleader and cheated on her boyfriend, too. They deserve each other.

Even though I can’t stand his guts anymore, it still hurts.

I don’t think I will ever feel that way about anyone else. To be honest, I don’t really want to. I haven’t been with anyone since. I doubt I will be with anyone ever again.

I don’t want to be hurt by love anymore…

I stop writing for a second and take a deep breath. It has been exactly one year since I found out. I need to move on. I need a fresh start. Despite knowing this, I let a few tears fall. I have to stop myself again.

He is not worth the tears. I knew today would be hard. I take a few more deep breaths and start writing again.

I’ve decided to not bother with thoughts of Trevor anymore. Or any boy for that matter. I’m swearing off love.

Who needs it anyway?

Today not only marks a year of my heart breaking, but it’s a new school year. I am going to focus on school and graduating. I am tired of crying and feeling worthless.

I am done with love.

Sincerely,

Aimee

I close my leather bound journal.

I am just relieved that he does not go to the same school as me. He goes to Dexter High in the next city over. I go to New Field High, which is in the city in which I live. They are rival cities. I think that fits.

I stand up and do a few yoga poses Mom taught me. It helps relax and calm me. I glance at my phone. 7:32 a.m. I still have time before school.

I quickly brush my long dark hair and double check my makeup. I have to look good for the first day of school. Not sure why, but it’s just what people do. The rest of the year, I could go in my pajamas and no one would care. Maybe the teachers would. With us having uniforms and all.

Downstairs, my parents are in the kitchen. Dad is making his famous first day of school breakfast. Mom is at the island on her computer, probably working on a new article for the New Field Paper.

That was how she and Dad met. She had gone to a new café in town to interview the owner, my dad. It was her first assignment. She wasn’t expecting to walk away with a great story and a great guy.

Hey princess, Dad says, kissing my cheek.

Okay, so not all guys are evil. My dad and brother are pretty great. They are wonderful husbands to Mom and Emma. I just don’t want a guy right now.

Are you ready for your first day of school? Mom asks, closing her laptop and focusing on me. She always looks picture perfect. Her fair Irish looks are a total contrast to Dad’s Italian ancestry. I got the best of both worlds, Dad’s looks and Mom’s eyes.

I’m ready for it to be over. I cannot wait to graduate.

Have you heard from USC? Dad asks. He places large plate of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and turkey sausage, (Mom’s attempt at getting us healthy,) on the kitchen island between Mom and me. I pull up a chair and grab a plate.

No, but I’m still not sure if I want to go. I kind of just want to work after graduation.

I take a bite of my pancakes. So yummy. Dad makes the best. He may specialize in coffee and tea, but he is a whiz in the cooking department too.

Suddenly my phone buzzes. It’s a text from my best friend Brie. Oh dear. I have to go. Brie needs a ride to school. Apparently her car isn’t working. And her parents aren’t home to jump her car off.

I get up sadly. The pancakes will have to wait and be an afternoon snack when I get home. I kiss Mom and Dad before running out the door.

Thankfully, Brie only lives a block away from me, so I don’t have to drive out of my way. I pull into her apartment complex and park next to her convertible BMW Bug. She is sitting on the hood waiting for me.

I wave and she jumps in the passenger seat. Thanks Aim.

Anytime B. I side-hug her and wait for her to buckle before pulling out of the parking lot.

I have known Brie Michaels her whole life. She is three months younger than me. Her parents used to work for my dad at his café. That is how we met. Brie’s mom is a manager at Little Café now but her dad got a job as a police officer.

Brie is a perfect blend of both her parents. She has the most unique features; light mocha skin, clear blue eyes, and a red tint in her dark curly hair. She has her mom’s personality and her dad’s gentle heart. You can’t help but love her.

I am so excited about this year. I have decided to go out for the lead role in the play. Mrs. Andrews is holding auditions in September. We’ll find out the play next week. I don’t care what play it is. I am going to be the star. Brie checks her makeup in the visor. She has always had her own style. Very bold, loud, and colorful. Just like her.

We pull up to school and I sigh. Here we are.

As we are walking up to the double doors Brie gasps before attacking me with a big hug. I am so sorry! I totally forgot what today is.

I force a smile. It’s okay.

It really isn’t. I am definitely not okay. But I am not one to admit that. I don’t open up much.

No it’s not. At lunch, we’re going to Chick-Fil-A. My treat.

I have learned not to argue with Brie.

I hug her. Who needs boys when I have you?

Two

M y school is so small. It makes sense, since New Field is small. There are maybe 150 seniors. I know all of them, so the walk to my locker takes a long time. So many people stop and ask me about my summer, or to update me on their lives.

When I finally get to my destination, I put in my locker combo. It doesn’t work. I try again. Nothing. I try one last time before groaning and smacking it.

That was dumb. Now my hand hurts.

A chuckle comes from my left.

I don’t think you hit it hard enough.

I turn to glare at my locker neighbor. Benjamin Ward. Great. You’re my neighbor here too?

Looks like it, Ben says, opening his