Three months. Twelve weeks. Eighty-four days.

I can do this. Easy.

Or so I thought...

Let's get one thing straight: I don't belong in anger management. After catching my girlfriend

cheating, I may have been slightly emotionally unstable when I had a run with a meter maid

attempting to give me a parking ticket, which caused me to end up in this situation.

But that didn't matter because I had a plan.

I would smile, laugh at the right moments, charm everyone around me, completing all my

coursework early. Be the perfect student. And put this anger management mess behind me.

But then she had to ruin it with her woe-is-me attitude and dark, long silky hair that would drive

any man mad. All my plans are crashing down.

I can't fail.

I won't fail.

My only other option is jail. And that isn't happening.

Clara

This is hell. It has to be.

I never expected to spend my summer here. In a community rec center listening to a touchy-

feely, ponytail-sporting counselor drone on about how to harness my emotions, all while getting

a massive case of swam ass.

To make matters even worse, there's a pretty, perfect kiss-ass who seems entirely unfazed by

our current court-ordered situation. And that just won't do.

After our constant clashing disrupts the class for what feels like the millionth time, our counselor

gives us an ultimatum; partner up or fail and risk possible jail time.

When we are thrown together week after week, I soon realize that we are fire and gasoline. The

heat between us is undeniable.

But the more we mix, the more explosive things are