The Heart Wants What It Wants | Selena Gomez
Back to Me | Daya
Love Yourself | Justin Bieber
Speechless | Rachel Platten
FU | Miley Cyrus, French Montana
Still Falling For You | Ellie Goulding
Boston | Augustana
Scars To Your Beautiful | Alessia Cara
Dreaming with a Broken Heart | John Mayer
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PROLOGUE
VIOLA
Once upon a time,a young princess lived in a faraway land, awaiting a prince who would give her everything she ever dreamed of… love, passion, loyalty. He’d be the sweetest, kindest, and most heartwarming gentleman a girl could ever ask for. And he’d be perfect.
…Excuse me while I vomit.
There is absolutely, positively no way that a man like that exists on this earth. I used to thinkhewas, but of course, I was proven wrong. I was young and naïve and didn’t know any better.
Andhewas Travis King.
I remember how clear the sky was as I sat on my rooftop outside of my bedroom window. Summer was fading away, and the start of my seventh-grade year was right around the corner. The stars were super bright, and as I counted them, I heard Travis’s father screaming from the house across from mine. He did that a lot, and occasionally, I’d see Travis through the window of his bedroom. He’d put on his headphones to tune out the yelling. But that night, he didn’t go to his bedroom. He ran out of his front door, slamming it behind him, and began pacing in his front yard. I swallowed, watching him intently as his hands balled into fists at his sides.
When the Kings moved across the street from us, Travis and my older brother, Drew, instantly became best friends. They were both going into their first year of high school, and I was sad I wouldn’t be at the same school as them anymore. Well, mostly about Travis. Drew had made it very clear he didn’t like his little sister tagging along, but Travis never made me feel like a nuisance.
As I watched him kick the dirt on the sidewalk, he looked up at me. His lips were turned down, and I could see the anger in his eyes. My breath stilled as he watched me watch him, and I was certain he’d tell my brother I’d been spying on him.
Instead, he walked across the street, climbed up the trellis, and sat down next to me. He stayed silent for a long while, but then he finally turned and spoke.
“I hate my dad sometimes.”
“Why does he get so mad?” I asked.
He looked away and rested his arms over his bent knees. “He drinks. Sometimes too much.”
“Does he hurt you?” He didn’t look at me. “Or your mother?”
He winced, then shifted his body. “No. Just yells.”
We sat in silence, both lying on our backs as we looked up at the sky above us, the stars so bright and big.
“You can sit up here anytime, you know? My parents won’t mind.”
“Drew would,” he said matter-of-factly. “He’d call me a pansy.” He chuckled.
“Drew calls everyone that.”
He laughed again.