The Exact Opposite of Okay. Laura Steven

The Exact Opposite of Okay - Laura Steven


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      First published in Great Britain in 2018

      by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited

      The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

      Text copyright © 2018 Laura Steven

      First e-book edition 2018

      ISBN 978 1 4052 8844 6

      Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1823 3

       www.egmont.co.uk

      A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

      Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

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      To Toria and Lucy, a.k.a. the Coven – because in

      the immortal words of Kelly Clarkson, my life

      would suck without you

       Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Dedication

       Sunday 18 September

       Monday 19 September

       Tuesday 20 September

       Wednesday 21 September

       Thursday 22 September

       Monday 26 September

       Tuesday 27 September

       Wednesday 28 September

       Thursday 29 September

       Friday 30 September

       Monday 3 October

       Tuesday 4 October

       Wednesday 5 October

       Thursday 6 October

       Friday 7 October

       Saturday 8 October

       Sunday 10 October

       Monday 11 October

       Friday 15 October

       Old White Men Love It When You Slut-shame

      The Friend Zone is as Real as Narnia

       Epilogue

       Acknowledgements

      About the Author

       Back series promotional page

      Look, you probably bought this book because you read the blurb about how I’m an impoverished orphan and also at the heart of a national slut-shaming scandal, and you thought, Oh great, this is just the kind of heart-wrenching tale I need to feel better about my own life, but seriously, you have to relax. I am not some pitiful Oliver-Twist-meets-Kim-Kardashian-type figure. If you’re seeking a nice cathartic cry, I’m not your girl. May I recommend binge-watching some sort of medical drama for the high caliber of second-hand devastation you’re looking for.

      Either that or you saw the nudes, which, y’know. Most people have. My lopsided boobs have received more press attention than your average international epidemic, which I bet the super-virus population is furious about. All that hard work attempting to destroy the human race gone unnoticed.

      In all seriousness, I don’t know why my publisher asked me to write this book, because apart from that one time I accidentally ate a pot brownie and broke into the old folks’ home, my life really hasn’t been all that interesting. But we’ll get to that in due course. It’s not actually relevant to the sex scandal or anything, but it is hilarious on a fairly profound level.

      I know, I know, it’s highly confusing that I’m referencing the fact this is a book you bought – unless you pirated it, in which case joke’s on you because this PDF is set to self-destruct in forty-five seconds – but the reason is that I am incredibly meta and pretentious, and I wanted to make your brain hurt like it did when you watched Inception for the first time.

      First, I guess I better explain how I got to this point: eighteen and internationally reviled. But instead of wasting time typing it all up for you, what I’m going to do is copy-paste entries from my blog so you can catch up, and add valuable retrospective insights in square brackets. By my calculations this should take up at least ninety-five percent of the manuscript, which is a big win for me because it means significantly less work on my part. When in doubt, always do the least amount of work possible, in order to preserve energy for important things like laughing and sex.

      Don’t look at me like that. This is a book about a sex scandal: did you really expect me to be a nun and/or the Virgin Mary?


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