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Back First Comes Love Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

“Yeah, right. Sorry anyway.” And with that, I get up. “I’m heading down for breakfast. Join us whenever you want.”

Even the thought of having to face my sure-to-be-angry sister can’t keep me in this room right now.

Weird.

At breakfast, Julia at least waits until after my first cup of coffee to punish me for the pizza.

I’m reaching for my third slice of toast when she snaps, “Shouldn’t you be watching how many carbs you eat at your age?” I’m still debating if she’s calling me fat, old, or both, when she adds, “I mean, after all that pizza last night.”

I stop buttering the toast to look at her. “I’m not the one getting married, so, no, I don’t need to go on a neurotic diet.”

To make my point, I take another generous slab of butter and spread it on my slice.

“Well, even if you’re not the one getting married”—she says it in a nasty, as if tone—“you still need to fit in your bridesmaid dress.”

“Are you really being this petty over pizza?”

My mom is not at the table, leaving only the male population to witness this exchange. My dad doesn’t seem to care; he’s used to our bickering. He’s reading the paper, face hidden behind it, while Paul and Diego are doing their best to stare at their plates, pretending they don’t exist.

“If you didn’t like dinner, you should’ve just said so, instead of being dishonest and eating pizza behind my back.”

“Dishonest? I was hungry, and I ordered pizza. Big deal! You want honesty? Your vegan cuisine sucks, as do all your other eating habits.”

“What other eating habits?”

I start talking in a mock shrill-posh voice. “No sugar, no dairy, no meat, no gluten, no salt…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be my maid of honor after all.”

“Ask another one of your friends with an eating disorder; I’m sure she’ll look stunning in her dress.”

“Girls…” My dad intervenes without lowering his paper, using his “enough” tone.

“Dad, she started it,” I say, realizing I’ve successfully reverted to being a sulky teenager.

Dad lowers the paper just a few inches and arches an eyebrow at me from behind his reading glasses.

“Fine,” I snap. “Take her side. It’s what you always do.” And with that, in true adolescent fashion, I leave my breakfast unfinished and storm upstairs to my room, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fourteen

Frosty the Snowman

When Diego joins me in my room, I’m pacing around it in circles, fuming with suppressed rage.

“That was an interesting breakfast,” he says.

“See what I have to put up with?” I rant. “How spoiled she is, and how my parents always take her side?”

“Your dad didn’t take anyone’s side.”