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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

Jake shot me a look over his shoulder. “I could practice every day for years and wouldn’t be able to do this. You’ve got a gift.”

I looked back at my canvas. It was painted in my usual, hyperrealistic style. A true-life depiction right down to the minutest detail. I’ve always been good at seeing the details in things. Always been good at spotting the smallest things that others don’t seem to see. The way light falls on objects, the way shadows darken and obscure them.

“It’s insanely good.”

“It’s okay, I guess,” I whispered under my breath. Compliments always made me feel uneasy and off center.

“What’s it for?”

“It’s a final portfolio piece, I’m trying to get into this art school. They only accept twenty people each year.”

“You’ll definitely get in.” He said it with such confidence. As if it was a fact. Irrefutable, like the earth going around the sun or the grass being green or his eyes having turned a deep, cobalt blue in this darker light.

I looked up at the ceiling and then quickly back down at my feet. Looking everywhere in the room except at him.

“When will you finish it?” he asked. My throat tightened.

“Don’t know. Don’t know if I want to.” Which was the truth. Despite thinking that I could, I just didn’t know if I could go through with it, whether I could actually face the truth of myself long enough, and in so much crystal-clear detail, to be able to paint it.

“You should definitely finish it.”

“We should get back down to Zac and Lisa, and also, it’s a bit late, my brother needs to eat at a certain time and—”

“Sure, of course. Routine is important.” He moved toward the door, away from the photo, and relief washed over me in waves that almost made me cry.

We walked out the door and this time, I quickly turned the key in the lock. Locking the door behind me, locking away a secret I didn’t want anyone to see. But I knew that he’d seen it, and I didn’t know how I was ever going to look him in the eye again.

11

I wanted to get through the next day at school without seeing Jake. We might have hung out yesterday, but let’s be honest, it was more of a playdate for our siblings. Besides, I knew enough about the way the world worked to know that when at school, in front of his friends, he wouldn’t be talking to me. Guys like that didn’t talk to girls like me in front of their friends. Those were just the unspoken high school rules.