Life is full of highs and lows, but it’s who helps us through that counts.
Stumbling across her teenage diaries in her childhood home, Charlie is instantly transported to the 1990s.
Charlie relives all the emotions and feelings as memories come flooding back, from first kiss to first love and everything in between.
Back in the present and Charlie discovers that even in the darkest of times, light and laughter can ALWAYS be found.
A heartfelt journey through life, from teenage angst to the trials and tribulations of adulthood. Family love, friendship and romance weave throughout but who will love you, always, forever?
Pre-order Links
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/I-Love-You-Always-Forever-ebook/dp/B0BSYSTC2Z/
Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/I-Love-You-Always-Forever-ebook/dp/B0BSYSTC2Z/
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Extract
Around fifteen minutes later and I’m listening to Mrs Bacon explain about how Rasputin rose to power and gained the influence he had over the Tsarina of Russia when I feel a warm breath on my cheek. I look over my shoulder and there he is, practically on top of me. The tiny little hairs on my neck are standing to attention and every nerve is tingling. I’ve known him for less than half an hour and this is the effect he’s having on me already.
‘I forgot my glasses.’ He says, as if this explains why he is so close to me. ‘And my book. Hope you don’t mind me reading yours.’ I sigh with slight exasperation and push the book towards him a little more. This will ensure it is evenly placed between the two of us on the desk. I wear glasses too when I have to. Thick NHS frames that come in a choice of shit, shitty or shittier. They certainly didn’t give any thought to teenagers when they designed them.
At my last appointment, the optician said my eyes were getting to the point where I should wear them all the time. The thought horrified me, but I’m getting headaches now from straining my eyes to read the blackboard so I’m seriously considering contact lenses.
‘Do you actually have to do that?’ I whisper through gritted teeth at him. He’s chewing gum and blowing bubbles, and it’s the most annoying sound I’ve heard. I’m not sure whether it’s because it’s right next to my ear or because it makes me think of his lips again and what else he could be doing with his mouth other than chewing gum.
What’s wrong with you? I ask myself. I’m not some innocent girl who’s never been kissed. I’ve had boyfriends, granted none have lasted very long, and we never did more than kiss, but what the hell was going on? Why were all my hormones suddenly firing off in all directions, causing my brain to frazzle? This rendered me unable to concentrate on the riveting facts about Russia in the First World War.
‘Sorry.’ I can feel his smile rather than see it. Then I reprimand myself for being such a harridan. He’s new to the school, might even be new to the area, forgotten his books and glasses and all I’ve done is scold him.
He’s exceptionally quiet for the rest of the class and when we’re packing up, I feel the need to explain myself.
‘I’m sorry if I sounded like a twat earlier.’ This seems appropriate. ‘It’s just Mrs Bacon can be a bit of a tyrant. I mean, she’s a brilliant teacher, but you don’t mess with her.’
‘It’s ok.’ He packs his notepad and pen in his bag, and I can now see the badges are mostly band names and photos.
‘Do you know what room you’re in next?’ I’m assuming he doesn’t.
‘I think I’ve got a free next and then double maths after lunch.’ He’s smiling again and my insides are flipping over and over. Please let him be in my maths group too.
‘Same here.’ I say as nonchalantly as I can. He waits for me to put my stuff away and then falls in behind me.
‘You can be my guide, then.’ My heart sings a little at these words.
‘Are you just doing the two subjects here?’ Being a rather large and modern sixth form, we often got students from other schools around the city that came for the odd subject rather than full time.
‘I’m hoping to get into English too, but apparently it’s full at the moment.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘We moved here in the summer, and they told us I had a place for all three, but now it turns out I might have to carry on at my old school for English.’
‘Bummer.’ I’m praying someone drops out of English this very day. Sixth form was going to be a whole lot more interesting this year. ‘Wouldn’t that be a long way to travel, though?’ He looks at me oddly.
‘I’ve only moved from Walsgrave, you know.’ He laughs. Walsgrave is another part of Coventry, where the main hospital is. It’s slightly less posh than Finham, according to my mum, but then, according to my mum, everywhere is less posh than Finham.
On the way back to the sixth form block, I discover he lives on the next road to me, is an only child with divorced parents, hence the move here, lives with his mum and is eighteen in two weeks. By the time we’ve sat down in the common room, I’m utterly smitten, picking out baby names and practising writing my new signature, Charlotte Sawyer, in my head.