Best Job Ever

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  • Published: 21 Nov 2012
  • Updated: 22 Nov 2013
  • Status: Complete
What happens when a simple job interview brings you face to face with the love of your life? Meet Brooke, a 20 year old American, in England for college, studying at the prestigious Oxford University. It's summertime and she applies for a job as a maid and cook. Seems simple enough, right? Wrong. This job takes her through twists and turns, love and heartbreak, but best of all, she gets 4 new best friends/brothers and a sole mate. A job this amazing can only be described as the "Best Job Ever". WARNING: Some chapter have elements that can be triggering. And LANGUAGE! Some chapters have a lot of cursing. xxBo<3


29. Hate Resolved



My arm hurts so much. What have I done? I can’t deal with emotions. Why? I turn and face the ceiling. Zayn and Niall are kneeling beside the tub and I hear Liam in the bedroom crying. I try to get up, but slip on the blood. Niall grabs my non-cut arm and helps me up. Blood drips down my arm unto the floor. I sit on the toilet and grab toilet paper to stop the bleeding and wipe my face. I walk into the bedroom with a piece of toilet paper on my arm and see Liam sitting in a corner looking at my phone and crying while Louis and Harry try to talk to him. “Liam.” I say but it barely comes out as a whisper. He looks up at me. I get a knot in my throat and try not to start crying. He stands up and drops the phone on the floor. I walk towards him and he just looks at my arm. “Why?” He chokes out. “Because I’m not strong. I care what people say. I’ve been bullied too much to not care. I can’t deal with emotions. I’m insecure. I’ve really never felt loved, or wanted, or needed. It goes to my head. It’s the only way I know how and ever been able to deal with this sort of thing.” I say softly. “Wait, have you done this before?” He asks me. I roll my shorts up. Halfway up my thigh are 4 thick, pale white scars. He gasps and the boys just shake their heads. “Liam, I’m so sorry. I know, this is wrong. I just can’t have people tell me I’m ugly or fat or a slut.” I look at him. He just looks at me like he’s deciding what to do. “You’re beautiful. Why would you doubt that? Why would you listen to them saying you’re a slut when you’ve never had sex? I just don’t understand. You are-” I kiss him. “Forgive me?” I say. “Always.”

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