Page 1 of More Than A Fixer-Upper (Hope Runs Deep #13)
Rosalie Potter
Nineteen years old
“I’m so glad that’s my last final for the year,” Randall, my boyfriend, says as he drapes his arm across my shoulders.
Randall Martin has it all good looks, a great sense of humor, and the ability to charm the pants off anyone but he’s all mine.
We met on the first day of college two years ago, and it’s been amazing ever since.
“I wish I could say that, but I have two more before I’m done.
I can’t even go home to study because I have to work,” I say, sighing and jutting out my lower lip.
Randall kisses my temple. He looks around the quad and lifts his chin toward his friends.
He’ll probably hang out with them instead of looking for a job.
His parents are filthy rich, so he doesn’t need the money, but his dad wants him to appreciate the value of a dollar.
Randall’s mom babies him so fucking much.
I have to move out of the dorm in a week, but I’m glad my roommate Katie has an extra room for rent in her house. If it all goes well, I can work as much as possible this summer to save money so I don’t have to work all the time and can actually have fun my junior year.
When I’m just a few hours old, I’m abandoned at the hospital twelve hours after being born.
The whole “babies don’t stay in foster care long” thing is a damn lie for me.
I’m born addicted to meth and have a lot of health problems. No one wants to take that on, and I’m passed around constantly.
Since my birth mother never gives her real name, one of the nurses an enormous Harry Potter fan gives me the main character’s last name.
My mother names me after my grandmother, not the Twilight character. I got teased when the movie comes out.
“Yeah, babe,” Randall says, clearly not paying attention.
I roll my eyes and keep walking. I keep to myself.
Sometimes being his girlfriend is a pain, but when he actually pays attention to me, butterflies fly around in my stomach and my heart races.
I’ve never been in a real relationship before, so this is all new.
I move to get out from underneath his arm. He doesn’t fight me. Instead of continuing straight, I turn left toward my dorm. Randall doesn’t notice I’m gone until I’m almost at the dorm’s locked door.
“Babe, why didn’t you tell me you left?” he asks, sounding more annoyed than concerned.
“I told you I have to work tonight. I need to drop my stuff off.”
“There’s a party tonight. I thought we could go together.” I’m standing on one of the three steps leading into the hall. His hands tighten on my hips. “We haven’t been to one all year.”
“You’ve been to every one,” I remind him.
“So? You ditch me every time. Are you ashamed of me?” I roll my eyes.
“I have to work to stay in school. I didn’t get a lot of scholarships.” I hate how we keep having this same argument. Now he’s going to go into how I’m neglecting him. “I need to get ready. Have fun at the parties this weekend. I’m working the next three days and then I have those tests.”
“I won’t see you for five days?” Randall’s temper breaks through. “Why am I with you?” he mutters.
“I thought you were with me because you love me. I know I can’t be with you all the time, but school’s almost out. After I move out of the dorm, I’ll be working forty hours. I’ll have a more set schedule.” I grab his cheeks so he’s looking at me. “I promise.”
He shrugs me off.
“I need to go.” With those four words, he storms off. I turn and walk away from him. This is the end of Randall and me.
But three weeks later, the two pink lines show up after I’ve been feeling like shit.
I never think Randall will leave me all alone with his child.
When I tell him, he drops out of school, changes his number, and leaves town.
His family tells me he moves to Europe to continue his studies. I’m all aloneand pregnant.