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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

“Oh my goodn—” The ball was headed straight for my face, and everyone in the stadium had turned to watch. I closed my eyes and held out my hands, blocking my face and winced as the ball hit my fingers. And then it stopped. Wait . . . had I just caught it? There was deathly silence. If a pin were to drop from the sky right now, I’m sure the sound would have echoed through the stadium like a clap of thunder. I finally opened my eyes and looked around. Everyone was staring at me, including Amber. But hers was not a stare. Hers was a vile, hateful glare. I glanced at the pool. Jake was looking at me too. And then he smiled, and the whole stadium burst into eardrum-shattering cheers.

16

After the excitement of the game, followed by the awkward, yet in some strange way, exhilarating feeling of being the center of an entire stadium’s attention, I decided to get out of there. Besides, I had therapy. I was making my way across the parking lot when I heard him calling.

“Hey!”

I turned to find Jake standing there, in his full BWH water polo tracksuit. This was the first time we’d spoken in almost a week. Wet tendrils of hair peeped out from under his cap, his smile was huge, and his eyes seemed so very cerulean right now. He walked toward me, and I felt that familiar, visceral reaction to his presence once more.

“Congratulations,” I gushed without restraint.

“Thanks.”

“Good game. Well, I mean, I’ve never watched a water polo match before, so I guess I can’t say whether it was a good game per se, but it seemed like a good game.”

His smile grew. “It was a good game.”

“You scored a lot of goals . . . uh, is that what you call them? Or hoops, or tries, or whatever.”

He laughed. “Goals. I did!” He said it with such a matter-of-fact tone that it made him even hotter.

“Are you coming to the party tonight?” he asked, and I shrugged in question. “There’s a party to celebrate our win tonight at Vuyo’s house, you must come.”

“No. It’s okay. Besides, I don’t really know anyone, and I haven’t been invited or anything, or—”

“I’m inviting you.”

“You are?” I asked, squinting and shielding my face from the bright sun.

He chuckled. “Unless me saying ‘you must come’ is not an invitation.” And then, without any kind of warning, he pulled his cap off and pushed it down over my head.

“Uh . . . thanks.” I reached up and touched the cap, surprised by this gesture.

“The party starts at seven. He’s just down the road from you. 101 Bay Drive. Everyone is going to be there.” He looked excited, but I wasn’t.