Chapters (47)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- 2 Months Later
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Books by Kasie West
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
“You don’t think that’s going to be weird when he’s talking to your dad and it comes up?”
“Why would he be talking to my dad?”
“I don’t know. Why did he talk to your dad before?”
I groaned.
“It’ll be fine. Just tell him . . . or don’t. It’s not like you’re friends. Now, out of my car. Aunt Faye awaits.”
“Have you asked your mom about the bungee jump event? You’re going to be able to come, right?”
“I will be there. Even if I have to bring my aunt with me.”
Seventeen
I brought my headphones to the meet this time. But no matter how loud the music was, as I sat on the cold cement bench, elbows on my knees, I couldn’t block out the fact that Jackson and my dad were sitting in the stands together. Why was he at the swim meet anyway? I scanned the group of guys warming up for the next race. Was one of his friends on the swim team?
He was going to ask about the truck. My dad was going to tell him about my brother. Then my dad would think I was ashamed to talk about it or too sad to tell the story. And Jackson would think I was a liar. It didn’t matter. Amelia was right. Even if Jackson wanted to be, we weren’t friends.
I concentrated on the ground beneath my feet. I couldn’t think about this right now. I had a race to swim. My last one. Of the entire season. And I was going to be distracted. I clasped my hands behind my head, my forearms pushing my earphones in even more.
A hand on my shoulder had me sitting up straight. It was DJ, saying something I couldn’t hear. I turned off my player.
“What?”
“Are your shoulders okay? You look like you’re in pain.”
They were killing me. “No. I mean, yes, they’re fine. I’m just trying to get in the zone.”
“You don’t want to ice them for a little while? You probably have twenty minutes before you need to warm up for your next swim.”
“Yes, I should go sit in the office for a little while.” Out of sight, out of mind. That’s how I hoped it would work.
He walked with me toward the building. “You’ve been swimming great today.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re definitely on track for a scholarship.”
“I hope so.”
We arrived at the office, and he strapped a bag of ice onto each shoulder. The cold seeped into my skin and I relaxed a bit.
“I guess they were tighter than I thought. Thank you, DJ . . . DJ . . . What does that stand for?” I laid my cheek on one of my shoulders, letting the ice cool my cheeks that seemed to be a little warm now too.