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Chapters (67)
  1. Big Boned
  2. CONTENTS
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. One Month Later
  60. Acknowledgments
  61. About the Author
  62. Copyright
  63. About the Publisher
  64. Backad 1
  65. Backad 2
  66. Backad 3
  67. Backad 4

I swallowed nervously and looked at my feet as the feeling of being underwater came back to me. Jake must have sensed this and changed the subject.

“So, did you finish your portrait?” he asked.

“Kind of. Although, I’m not sure it’s very good.”

“Trust me, it is!” he said, sinking his feet into the sand now.

“What are you doing next year? I mean, obviously, you’re going somewhere fancy, cos you’ve been given a big fat water polo scholarship,” I teased.

He nodded. “I have.”

“Naturally.”

“I’m going to study sports psychology.” He rolled over onto his back again, sand spilling off his feet as he did. “I want to build on what I’m doing with the kids at the Lighthouse. Every week I see how good sport is for them, not just physically, you know? They make friends, they learn to share, learn teamwork, learn to resolve conflicts. I think I’d like to work with special needs kids in the future.”

Oh dear. . . be still my beating heart. I always knew he was a good guy, but really, this had taken him to a whole new level. What was he going to say next, that he’d saved a blind, starving kitten with three legs from a well and then nursed it back to health with his bare hands and a teeny-tiny syringe?

And then Jake pointed at the sky. “Shooting star. Make a wish!”

“What?” I looked up just in time to see the last flash of light disappear into the Vantablackness.

He turned and looked up at me. “Did you make a wish?” he asked.

My cheeks went red and hot. “I did.” I reached down and picked up a handful of sand and watched the grains run through my fingers and fall back onto the beach. I did make a wish. One that I dare not ever wish for. Girls like me don’t make wishes like that. Girls like me know better than to wish for things they will never get.

But in that perfect moment, with Jake on the beach, and the blue glow and the stars and the cool sea breeze and the fluttering in my stomach and the slight, giddy dizziness I felt when he looked at me . . . I’d wished. Even though I knew it wouldn’t come true.

32

I’d woken up in a good mood; the night with Jake had been nice. But my mood quickly deteriorated when I was caught off guard by a call. I didn’t check the caller ID and when I answered, it was my dad.

“Lori, I’ve been trying to get hold of you.” He sounded nervous.

“Dad. Hi. I can’t speak now, I’m going to be late for school.”

“Five minutes, please. I wanted to tell you something.”

“I know,” I said, not able to hide the anger in my voice.

“How do you—”