How to love a bad boy (and other ways to earn your wings)
an excerpt

Chapter 1
“You know it’s going to be a bad day when you put your bra on backwards and it fits better”

Hi, my name is Alexa, and I’m an alcoholic. Ok, so I’m not, but an introduction is the best place to start right? When I imagine introducing myself to a room of people, it always happens in the way that an alcoholics anonymous meeting might unfold. Everyone would sit in a circle, and quietly listen while the complete stranger next to them spilled their life secrets. I wonder if they really listen. Or just wait, until they have the chance to introduce themselves. Their moment in the spotlight. Anyway, I digress. My name is Alexa, and I am having the worst day, ever. When I woke up this morning, it was raining. This is not uncommon, and I know this. But it’s uncommon in mid-August when we should be basking in glorious sunshine. That’s Britain for you. I spent a good hour or so attempting to tame my hair, already unruly in its anticipation of the moisture outside, ready to infiltrate. That’s the funny thing about hair, it really does seem to have a life of its own. Well, mine does. So, I finally get out the door, and what do I see? My beautiful car…with a flattened tyre. She looked so sad and desolate on the driveway, I could have cried. Both my Dad and older brother had already left for work…so there was nobody around to help me. I would have tried to change it myself, but the rain, the hair…you know where this is going. I did what every other person would do in my situation. Ran for a bus. I haven’t run in years, and I should hope I never have to again. If I’m ever chased by a madman, I think I might just take my chances, rather than reduce my lung to heaving masses of pain. After finally getting a seat, squeezing my way through the Monday morning crowds, I sat down and noticed that not one, but three of my nails had become casualties of war. War with the morning and its incessant need to keep me from getting where I was going. I guess I should mention where I am going, right? Well, after several years of working in a dead end job, I decided to overcome my fear of education and apply to University. As a mature student. What a girl of 25 can use to back up a claim of maturity, I’ll never know. But I worked damned hard to get this opportunity. I remember taking the entry test a few weeks ago, and I was so nervous I almost threw up. It didn’t help that there were a number of other people also taking the exam, hoping to become fledgling psychologists. Why psychology? Truth be told, I’m not 100% sure. But the couch seems like the best place to spend the day…how could it not be? The test room was so warm, so stuffy. The sun pierced the windows like a teasing finger prodding me in the back. I found myself thinking about Jess, my best friend. I love Jess. Jess and I were going to go shopping later that day. The thought of that flowing red dress, with little sequins peppered across the material… Joseph would think he’d died and gone to heaven. Joseph. My boyfriend. Wonderful, amazing, gorgeous Joseph. He’d driven me to the test centre, knowing full well that my hands were shaking way too much to drive myself. He’d kissed my forehead and winked at me, promising to be there when I was done. He wasn’t, unfortunately, traffic had kept him away from me. So he wasn’t there to see the jabbering wreck two hours at a desk had turned me to. I was feeling quietly confident, but that didn’t mean I was going to turn down the opportunity to milk some fuss out of my doting man. After an hour, he still hadn’t made it through traffic, so I found myself on a bus back then too. Although I didn’t mind so much as I do now. Now, I am on my way to find out if my life is going to change forever. My results.