Chapters (75)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- PART ONE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- PART TWO
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- PART THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- PART FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- PART FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- PART SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- PART SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- Epilogue: FRAGMENTS
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Also by Patrick Lee
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
Sam had talked to girls often enough at his old school. A couple of his friends were girls, even. It had never been a big deal, really. But there was talking to girls and then there was talking to girls. He really hadn’t done much of the latter. Hadn’t just walked up to one at a dance, or in the hallway, and introduced himself. That seemed to be one of those skills you needed years and years to get good at. From what he’d seen, even some guys as old as twenty hadn’t quite mastered it.
Watching this girl on the swing, it occurred to him that he could probably turn around and ride away without her knowing he’d been here. He didn’t really feel like doing that, but still—
She looked up and saw him, and flinched a little. He saw her hands tighten around the swing chains.
“Sorry,” Sam said. “I was just riding around—I wasn’t—I mean—”
Jesus, dude. Chill.
The girl managed a smile. “It’s okay.” Then, before Sam could reply, she said, “You’re the kid that just moved in, right?”
Sam nodded.
“I live down the street,” the girl said. “I saw you. And … your dad?”
“My mom,” Sam said, “and she’s really self-conscious about her looks, alright?”
He had no idea where the joke had come from, and no idea if it was the least bit funny. His brain had just whipped it up and shoved it out there.
For a second she almost seemed to take it seriously—then she scowled and shook her head. “Funny, smartass.”
But she laughed, too, and for some reason the sound of it blew away about ninety percent of the tension that had coiled up in Sam’s chest the moment he’d seen her.
“You want to sit down?” the girl asked. She indicated the swing next to hers.
“Yeah,” Sam said. He pushed his bike onto the grass and dropped it, and crossed to the swings. He sat beside the girl.
“I’m Sam Dryden,” he said.
The girl touched both of her feet to the ground, turned herself toward him and offered a handshake. “Dani Ellis,” she said.
CHAPTER TEN
It was crazy how quickly the talking became easy. Even after a minute or two, there was nothing to it. Who would have guessed?
He kept making her laugh, which felt amazing.