Forbidden Love

17 year old Leah Brooke has always dreamed of going to Yale University. When her big chance arrives, she blows it, but in her hurry to get home, she leaves her phone behind. What happens when a cute british boy finds it?


1. Chapter 1

"I never wanna see him again!" I can hear my sister shout from downstairs. 

"Miranda, honey, don't worry. You were too good for him." Mom tries to comfort her. 

"He was the best thing that ever happened to me! And now he's gone." She says. 

I roll my eyes and put my headphones in to block out the sound of her crying and complaining. I turn on my Bruno mars and search for something to wear today. It has to be fancy since I have an interview today for Yale. I graduated high school last year when I was 16. That's right, I skipped 2 grades. Well actually I only skipped one grade, but I started kindergarten early. I pick out a plain black pencil skirt, and a blue button up tank top. It's raining, so I also throw on a black sweater. I know, my outfits boring, but I don't want to be too flashy for such a big opportunity. I'm kinda tall, so I never ever wear heels. I slip on my favorite pair of black flats, and grab my pink designer purse. 

My Mom's not very interested in me going to a big fancy college. She always wanted me to be a singer or an actress, but I don't think I could handle all that attention. I just want to live a simple life. 

I trot right past my sobbing sister and my fake mother, and I head out the door to my crappy brown Buick. It's probably 50 years old, and my mom bought it for me off of some guy in the alley behind Taco Bell. For all I know, there could be some sort of camera watching my every move. 

I get inside the car and manage to turn it on without a hassle. I agreed to meet the Yale guy at a local coffee shop where he can interview me. It's about a half hour away from my house.

My car's radio is broken, so I'm forced to sit in silence for the whole way there. Sometimes, I sing a random song to keep my mind busy. 

"I shoulda bought you flowers, and held your hand. Shoulda gave you all my hours when I had the chance. Take you to every party, cuz all you wanted to do was dance. Ooh all the things I shoulda done when I was your man." I sing this one often. It's my favorite Bruno mars song. I absolutely adore Bruno mars if you haven't noticed already. I've always had a lil crush on him, even though I know for a fact that I would never have a chance with someone famous. 

Before I know it, I'm in the parking lot of the shop. I quickly get out of my car and scurry inside, trying not to get wet from the rain. I step inside and can immediately tell which guy is the one from Yale. He's wearing a suit and an incredibly expensive watch. I approach him and shake his hand. 

"Hi, I'm Charlee Brooke. But my friends call me Leah." I smile. 

"Charlee, why don't you go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit before we begin." He says. 

What? Freshen up? Do I smell? Is my breath horrible? I'm not quite sure what he's talking about, but I head to the bathroom anyway. I look in the mirror to see a disgusting mess. My hair is drenched, my mascara is smeared, and my lipstick is all over my face. Stupid rain! I grab for a paper towel, but of course, there are none. There's only hand drying machines. There's two stalls, and one of them is taken, so I burst into the other one to find that there is no toilet paper left. 

"Excuse me," I say to the woman in the other stall. "Can you hand me a strip of toilet paper?" 

"Sorry, there's only one square left, and I'm gonna need it." She replies. The only other option is to attempt to wipe it off with my sleeve. 

After a horrifying mess of trying to clean my face up, I pull my hair into a ponytail and rush back to the table where the professor is sitting. 

"My apologies, sir. The rain is not on my side today."'I smile weakly. He stares back at me blankly. 

"Anyways, tell me about your grades." He says. 

"Straight A's every year." I state proudly. 

"Any extracurricular activities?" He asks as he writes something down in his notebook. 

"Yes, cheerleading, soccer, and volleyball." I say. 

Suddenly, my phone rings. I forgot to turn the ringer off! I quickly reach for my pocket to decline the call, but in my rush I spill his coffee all over the poor guy. He stands up immediately and panics slightly. I'm not sure if its hot or cold, but im hoping cold. 

"My apologies!" I hand him a handful of napkins from a random guy's tray. 

"Excuse me! I needed those!" He says. His accent sounds vaguely familiar. I look up at him. He brushes his brown curly hair out of his eyes. 

"I'm sorry, I'll get you some more." I run to the counter where the napkins are, and on my way back, I slip on a spilled beverage and land on my booty. The boy walks over to me, laughing, and helps me up. I hand him the napkins. 

"I'm Harry." He says. 

"And I can't talk now." I push past him to approach the professer who is now finishing cleaning himself up. 

"I'm sincerely sorry Mr...."

"Mr. Globel to you." He interrupts me. "Your chaos has made me late to my next appointment. Maybe we should finish what we've started over the phone?"

"That would be perfect. Call me anytime." 

"Great." He walks out the door and I sigh heavily. Maybe this was gods way of telling me that I shouldn't go to yale. But it's my dream school, I have to keep trying. 

I walk back to my crappy Buick and drive all the way home in silence before realizing I forgot my purse at the shop. Perfect. 

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