I was eleven years old the first time I kissed my brother’s best friend.
That night, I wrote cheesy stuff like “I heart Van Woods” and “EK + VW 4EVA” all over my binder, convinced we were boyfriend and girlfriend.
I guess Van wasn’t so convinced. He spent the next six years pretending our lips never met.
When I was seventeen, I kissed him again. Only, this time, he kissed me back. He told me he loved me and promised we’d be together, no matter what.
He kept that promise for all of two hours.
That same night, he got wasted and crashed my brother’s truck. My brother ended up in the ICU. Van ended up going to prison.
It’s been four years since he broke my heart, ruined my life, destroyed my family, and nearly killed my brother. I’ve hated him more and more each day, and I vowed that if I ever saw him again, I’d kill him.
But first love doesn’t die easy...especially when fate forces me to spend a whole week by Van’s side.