Damaged Beyond Repair

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Chapter 1

 C O P Y R I G H T

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

All rights reserved. Including the rights to reproduce this book or the portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

Copyright © 2015 Kashmira Kamat

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ANY Form of PLAGIARISMCOPYING of my story ideas, scenes, dialogues will not be tolerated! I will take strict actions. 

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Authors Note: 

This a first draft and my first novel, written back in 2013 when I was still very young.

It is Not a slow burn romance, because the story focuses more on the conflicts and the character developments, kindly bare that in mind while you read on. I know it is a bit fast paced in the start, (cliche and super cringy in parts)  but once you are past 10 chapters, I assure you that you will enjoy the twists :)

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Alana 

The alarm blared in my ears, threatening to deafen me. I raised my palm to my face to shield myself from the sunlight pouring out the windows and glanced towards the clock sitting beside the night stand.

Holy SHIT!

The time was 9:00 am, and I was still under the covers, late for my class on the first day of my college. I got ready in a matter of fifteen minutes, not bothering to apply mascara or whatever, running a hand through my hair in a hurry. I'd already packed the stuff I needed the night before which was a relief. Next thing, I grabbed for an apple from the dorm lunch room, ignoring the irritated yell from the lunch lady hounding me to sit and eat. I ran out the dorms to the university building on the opposite side of the road. The last thing I wanted to do was make a bad impression on my professors which would take me an eternity to wipe clean.

I pushed through the massive campus gate, and into the never-ending campus garden which was also being surrounded by facility blocks from every possible direction. Tough looking guys played basketball on the left side of the field. Groups of other kids remained settled on the stadium steps with books lying open on their laps, eyes watching the game. You get the drift?

I ignored all the chaos and entered the building, the class list ruffled in my fingers. Some people smiled at me, some even offered me a wave, and others refused to acknowledge my existence.

I scanned the surroundings, looking for the familiar face that was supposed to be here before me, the guy who was usually misunderstood as the possessive boyfriend. He was the guy who pushed me off from the swings when we were five, just to see the dirt smack in my face. If you haven't guessed yet, then I'll tell you. Chez was a childhood friend from back home in Ridgewell. He arrived here in Carmel University six months before my arrival. I retrieved my phone out of the pocket and sent him a quick text asking him where he was.

Chez did not respond right away, so I figured he would be snoring face down on the floor. Yep. I said the floor. That's what he did when he snored and rolled all over the bed in a peaceful slumber. A habit since he was six. After a few minutes of no show, I did what I do best which is nag-call him until he was forced to answer.

Fifteen minutes and his phone probably had twenty missed calls and ten text messages. I had it all figured out pretty fast. I walked to class reluctantly, not conscious of the direction I was headed in.

I mean come on. The place was shit huge.

To my utter relief, the phone vibrated in my pocket. I checked it.

Chez- sorry babe, been sleeping.

Figured.

I'll see you the next class, I promise.

I typed back.

F*ck off.

I scanned the class list. Economics was my first lecture. I cursed under my breath, making my way towards nowhere in particular. I had to be in Lala land because I did not notice the Greek god almost walk right into me. The books flew out of my hands and scattered across the floor.

"I'm so sorry." His voice came off as a deep rumble, "Here, I'll help you."

I glanced up, and that's when the world around me froze. Just the way it happens in any other cliché romance movies. The slow-motion style.

He was what you'd call tall, dark, and handsome. The long ends of his wavy dark curls were swept across his forehead, a striking contrast with the mocha coffee-colored eyes, which looked me dead in the eye. The bronze complexion highlighted his defined cheekbones and his long lashes. He smiled warmly, showcasing a perfect set of dimples. The creator had certainly taken a month off from his daily schedule to concentrate on this project. That was a given.

I couldn't help but stare at him, and that flawlessly chiseled jaw was something I could stare at all day.

Kill me!

He was by far the most attractive guy I'd ever laid eyes upon in my eighteen years of life. If I spoke, I knew I'd spout all the crap and ruin the moment, so I remained shut. He handed me back my files and books, not averting his eyes from me even for a nanosecond, and picked up his own books.



Kashmira Kamat (KittyKash)

Edited: 17.08.2020

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