It Should Have Been Me by Susan Wilkins Read Online (FREE)
It Should Have Been Me Book by Susan Wilkins
Originally published: January 24, 2019
Author: Susan Wilkins
I couldn’t believe it. I thought I’d seen a ghost. But here you are. Living, breathing, laughing. The same bright halo of hair, that taunting look you always had. My brain is confused – I tell myself it isn’t possible – but my body knows it’s you. Oh yes! The thrill of it, the arousal. I still want you, that much is clear.
And I started to wonder. Can we turn back the clock? Changing the past, correcting the mistakes of our youth, surely that would be true mastery?
When serendipity comes it’s easy to falter, to fuss over the details, baulk at the risks. But without danger life becomes banal and pointless. Until I saw you I didn’t realize how bored I was. I woke up and I knew.
You belong to me, you always have.
Now I’ll prove it.
22 May 2000
She needed more coffee to stay awake, which was easy enough to get, plus a ton more time, which wasn’t. The amount of caffeine already humming through her veins was giving her palpitations. It was an odd sensation, her heart thumping against her ribcage and drumming home the message: stupid, stupid, stupid. Seven tequila shots on the night before exams started? She struggled to remember. It could’ve been more than seven. And for what? Some puerile student drinking game. What had possessed her? She didn’t even like tequila and all the coffee she’d drunk since had done little to mask the sour afterburn still fizzing in her gullet.
The glass cafetière stood empty on her desk – a present from Mum and Dad the previous autumn, when she was a fresher and full of resolutions about how hard she was going to work at uni, how she’d graduate with a First. But in the helter-skelter of the last two terms that ambition had been squeezed out by all the urgent demands of student life. Bad habits had ambushed her. Now she feared she’d left it all too late; the threat of retakes in the summer loomed, not to mention parental disappointment. And Sarah was the golden child, she didn’t want to disappoint anyone.
Working in the early hours was sometimes easier, fewer distractions, but she needed to shanghai her jittery brain, get the cuffs on and force it to concentrate. Think, think, think. Her fingertips hovered over the keyboard. The blue-tinted light from the laptop was drilling into her retinas. Another cigarette would help. She picked up the packet. Smoking kills – yeah, she got that. But not until you were old, like maybe fifty. In the meantime, she was relying on the nicotine to help her focus.
The block she lived in was on the edge of campus and faced the dark spectral hillside behind the university. One of the most exciting places in the country to study, or so the prospectus had bragged. Perched on the edge of the South