Novel & Cerita I Am That Book

the trainer wishes me. "Thank you, and the same to you!" I leave the room. At this very moment, I find myself in the library. I'm studying an old book about alphas, betas, and omegas to find out what's in me or, rather, what's missing. Why haven't I transformed yet? What's wrong with me? Why do people hate me so much? Could I be paying for something I did in the past but can't remember? Distracted, while looking at the book, I am surprised by someone talking.

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I need to go home. AN Hi! Can y’all tell me what you think about the book so far pls? Thank you❤️

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“Library tomorrow, then.” “Library tomorrow,” I said. Exam season had officially started. ** **Chapter 76** (Rewritten) **Morning** The alarm went off at the usual time, which meant Raihan groaned into the pillow and I reached over him to shut it up. “Why is it always louder on days we actually need to get up?” he muttered. “It’s the same volume every day.” “Then every day is a crime.”

I called again, moving toward the door but I got no answer. This guy is not only a nerd, he is also weird and somehow crazy. I wonder how I was going to cope with him when I joined his book club. I grabbed my phone off the table and unlocked it. As the screen popped on, messages flooded in. Group chats messages , especially the ones I've muted for a while now. ‘Arian Smith, Orleans College Book Club President, Accused of Misusing Club Funds.’ I blinked, trying to wake myself from the dream. I scrolled down, read it again and it was still the same.

Somewhere in the city—several stories above, in a steel and glass building—Julian Blackwood lay in his dark, sleek bedroom, staring at the book she had given him. He'd never intended to keep it. When Lena Carter had offered it to him—those gentle words, that thoughtful crease between her eyebrows—he'd intended to refuse. But something in her eyes had taken away his intention. It was neither flirting nor pretense. It was genuine. Silent. Generous. He hated kindness. It broke things open. Julian gazed down at the book. The cover was unadorned, the title in gold print: *A Man Called Ove*. He remembered Lena's words:

“Oh, look. The holy freak is still here.” A few girls snicker. Before I can respond, she tips her iced coffee forward. The brown liquid spreads across the front of my hoodie, soaking through to the thin top underneath. It drips down onto my books, runs over the pages, staining the words I spent hours reading. “My books…” I whisper. One of the girls pulls out her phone. “Oh, this is going on my I* story.” They laugh. They are waiting for me to cry. To scream. To give them the reaction they came for.

My mom was a computer genius with a PhD who works in Silicon Valley. Shortly after I was born, she created an AI robot sister modeled after me. Mom said my AI robot sister was equipped with the world's most accurate child behavior evaluation system. The moment I made a mistake, it would detect it. From then on, my AI robot sister became the judge of my life. Whenever she issued a warning, even when I had done nothing wrong, all I received was punishment. I tried to defend myself before. But Mom said the robot she built with her own hands could never make a mistake, and she became even more convinced that I was an inferior child. On my birthday, Mom took my sister and me to participate in an