Nothing More by Anna Todd Read Free Book Online

Brooklyn—lots of babies and the strollers to match. I’ve even seen people pushing their strollers, baby and all, into bars in the early evening.
    I have nothing to do. I’m a twenty-year-old college student living in what is purportedly the greatest city in the world, and I have absolutely nothing to do on my day off.
    I feel sorry for myself. Not really, but I would rather wallow and complain about my boring life than attempt to make new friends. I don’t know where to begin making friends. NYU isn’t as friendly as WCU, and if Tessa hadn’t spoken to me first, I probably wouldn’t have made any friends there either. Tessa is the first person I’ve started a friendship with since Carter died.
    Hardin isn’t included in this because that was a much more complicated situation to start. He acted like he hated me, but I had a feeling it wasn’t as clear-cut as it seemed even then. Really, it was more that he felt the relationship between his dad and me was the epitome of everything that was wrong in his life. He was jealous, and I understand that now. It wasn’t fair that I got the new and improved version of his previously alcoholic, emotionally abusive father. He loathed me for our shared love of sports. He hated the way his dad moved my mom and me into a big house, and he despised the car his dad bought me to drive. I knew he would be a difficult part of my new life, but I had no idea that I would be able to identify with his anger and see through his pain. I didn’t grow up in a perfect home like he had assumed.
    I had a father who died before I had a chance to know him, and everyone around me tried to make up for that. My mom filled my childhood with stories about the man, trying to make up for his early death. His name was Allen Michael, and by her report he was a well-liked man with long brown hair and big dreams. He wanted to be a rock star, my mom told me. Stories like that made me miss him without even knowing him. He was a humble man, she says, who passed away from natural causes at the unfairly young age of twenty-five, when I was only two. I would have been lucky to know him, but I didn’t get the chance. Hardin’s pain came from a different beast, but I’ve always believed that suffering is one thing people shouldn’t compare.
    The biggest difference between my upbringing and Hardin’s is due to our mothers. My mom was fortunate enough to have a good job with the city, and we were able to fall back on my dad’s life insurance from his factory job. Hardin’s mom worked long hours and barely brought in enough money to support the two of them. They had it much, much worse.
    It’s hard for me to imagine my stepfather, Ken, the way Hardin knew him. To me, he’ll always be the kind, lighthearted, and sober man he is today—the chancellor of WCU, no less. He’s done so much for my mom and he loves her as much as anyone could. He loves her more than liquor, and Hardin hated that, but now he understands that it was never a competition. If Ken could have, he would have chosen his son over the bottle long ago. But sometimes people just aren’t as strong as we want them to be. All of Hardin’s pain festered and grew into a fire that he couldn’t contain. When everything hit the fan, and Hardin—and the rest of us—found out that Ken isn’t his birth father, the fire took one final massive breath and burned him one last time. He made the choice after that to take control of his life, his actions, and himself.
    Whatever his therapist is doing is working, and I’m glad. And it’s done wonders for my mom, who loves that angry boy as if she gave birth to him.
    I pass a couple holding hands as they walk their dog and feel even sorrier for myself. Should I be dating? I wouldn’t even know where to start. I want the convenience of having someone around all the time, but I’m not sure I could actually