Copyright of Lexa summers, Not My Type.
The reproduction or use of this material without the publishers prior written consent is severely prohibited.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Before you start, I do want to warn you guys of some triggers and scenes. I want you all be safe and don't want you walking into something that could potentially trigger you.
Both Hayley and Kayden are broken and I think that's why I love their story so much because they save each other and they help each other through these obstacles in their lives.
In no way will I be romanticizing any mental illnesses or any heavy situations.
In this story there is explicit sexual content, mature scenes and languages, underage drug use and underage alcohol use.
— Emotionally abusive parent
— physical abuse
— Panic attacks
— mature scenes and languages
please keep in mind that some parts of the book can be heavy and again I just wanted to make sure that everyone reading this book was safe and knew what they were getting into you.
If you guys do continue this story, I hope you fall in love with these characters as much as I do. I have a lot of stuff planned and I'm honestly so excited for you guys to finally read it.
Other then that.... i hope that you guys enjoy the story as much as i enjoy writing it!
FIVE WEEKS. An hour every other week for the past two months. That’s how long I’ve been in these therapy sessions with Dr. Sutton.
Ever since I was diagnosed with Cardiomyopathy when I was twelve, my family has been trying to get me to open up to them, to confide in them ever since.
I drum my fingers against my thigh, glancing up at the dark wooden clock above her head.
Three thirteen. Seventeen more minutes left.
“Kayden, it’s good to talk about it. What’s not good to keep it all bottled up inside.” Dr. Sutton leans back on her chair, crossing her leg over the other.
I lean back against the couch, tilting my head at the dark-haired girl in front of me, tapping her pen against her pad of paper waiting for me to say or do anything that is worth jotting down.
“What is there to say Dr.Sutton?” I question, letting out a somewhat irritated sigh because our conversations are the same every time we meet, she asks me how my day was and I reply with good, she asks me how my relationship is going, I again reply with good.
“I was diagnosed at twelve, my condition got worse quickly when I was fifteen I got told I had end-stage cardiomyopathy and that if I didn’t get a heart transplant soon the survival rates were low. My condition moved me higher up the donor list, I got a transplant. It was good. Now it’s failing, just like my old heart.”
After I was re-diagnosed with Cardiomyopathy this year, my mother tried to get me to talk about and after I didn’t she decided to send me here. As if talking to a stranger would suddenly cure all of my problems.
Dr.Sutton slides forward in her seat.
“And how does that make you feel Kayden?”
“Sad,” I tell her honestly, it takes her by surprise at first, I can tell by the way her eyes widen and her mouth gaps slightly.
“And terrified. Angry. Overwhelmed. And tired.” I run a hand through my messy curls before glancing up at the clock.
Five more minutes left.
I feel her gaze on me as I shift mine into the rips in my jeans. I can tell that she’s observing, wondering.
For the past five sessions, I’ve never talked about anything related to my disease, I’ve avoided any talk of any emotion I’m feeling. Not because I don’t want to but because it makes people upset when I do—especially my sister.
I know that they want to be there for me, but I also know that they’re worried that I’m going to die and if I tell them how I feel I’d worry them more and they don’t need that.
I don’t need them worrying more because of me. When I was fifteen I was hospitalized that whole year and that took a toll on my family and if it’s up to me, I don’t want to put them through that again, make them relive that until they have to.
As for my girlfriend, she’s great but she’s not the type of girlfriend you can confide in, she’s bad with that kind of stuff and lately if I’m being honest— it feels distant with her.
“Have you tried opening to your girlfriend or a friend about this, as we talked about last time?” She flips the page of her notebook, focusing her gaze on me.
I lean forward, reaching into her bowl of candies and digging out a red lollipop for my girlfriend Myra, who is still waiting in the waiting room.
“Times up Dr.Sutton.” I stand up from the couch, a smile playing against my lips, thankful that the ugly wooden clock behind her finally showed that it was three-thirty.
“I’m serious Kayden, talk to someone about it. I’m not telling you that it has to be me, or your family members but anyone that you trust. We’re all here for you.” She stands, walking towards her door and pulling it open.
I slide out of the door open, shoving my hands in my hoodie pocket. I shift my gaze around the room looking for the familiar head of dirty blonde hair before my body collides with another one, a smaller one.
“Watch where the hell you’re going” a Disembodied voice hisses.
I turn around, coming face to face with Hayley fucking pierce— some fear her, some hate her, I frankly couldn’t care less about her.
“You walked into me.” I spit out, causing her to turn around and give me a look that assured me that this wasn’t the reaction she was used to.
Messy Platinum blonde hair frames a diamond-shaped face, her usually dark and threatening eyes hold weakness. The only similarity between this Hayley and the one that walks down the hallway with her head held high is the same dark clothes and a leather jacket.
“You were the one who was gazing into space like a lost pup. As I said before, watch where you’re going.” She spits, sending one last glare into my direction before stalking off into Dr.Sutton's office and slamming the door shut behind her.
I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding in, rolling my eyes and walking into the direction of my girlfriend who is curled on the couch with her phone in her hand.
“Thanks for waiting,” I say as I stand in front of her, offering out the red lollipop I picked out for her from Dr.Sutton’s bowl of candies.
Myra makes a face towards the candy before shaking her head no.
“You liked this kind the last time you came,” I tell her, furrowing my brows.
I’ll honestly never understand her, one minute she likes something and the other she acts as if I’m offering her poison.
“That was over two months ago.” She states, standing up and walking towards me.
“ I have a doctor's appointment in like 15 minutes, but other than that I’m yours for the rest of the day,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist and planting a kiss behind her ear.
She pulls out of my grip, turning around and giving me a small smile “ I think I’m going to go home, but when you’re done at the doctors call me and I'll let you know if I’m busy or not.”
I resist the urge to laugh bitterly, it’s not like I’m surprised— honestly, I’m more shocked that she came to my therapy session today. I love Myra, she’s amazing but she’s distant and most times our relationship is over text if we’re not at school.
She’s somehow always busy but she does care. She’s just not good at showing it.
“Okay, I love you.” I place a kiss on her lips, before pulling away.
She sends another smile in reply and turns around and towards the elevator of the hospital and gets on it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, I pull it out and see that my sister Elizabeth texted.
ELIZABETH- mom dad and I got to the hospital, r u done your therapy thing yet?
KAYDEN- just got out, heading up now.
ELIZABETH- in the cafeteria. Moms ordering you a coffee and a wrap. Hurry up.
I shove my phone back into my pocket before heading over to the elevator and clicking on floor number four.