Back With You All the Way Save as PDF
Chapters (53)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Chapter 31
  35. Chapter 32
  36. Chapter 33
  37. Chapter 34
  38. Chapter 35
  39. Chapter 36
  40. Chapter 37
  41. Chapter 38
  42. Chapter 39
  43. Chapter 40
  44. Chapter 41
  45. Chapter 42
  46. Chapter 43
  47. Chapter 44
  48. Chapter 45
  49. Acknowledgments
  50. About the Author
  51. Books by Cynthia Hand
  52. Back Ad
  53. About the Publisher

“Yes. I like art.” I spot Afton walking along the beach with the Wongs, keeping up with them but looking at her phone. Something about her expression catches at me. Wistful? Resigned?

“Sometime,” Nick is saying.

“Huh?” I didn’t catch the first part of his sentence. Or any of the past two or three sentences before that.

“I said, you’ll have to show me your work. Sometime.”

“Oh. Okay, sure,” I say, but I don’t mean it.

I turn my attention back to Afton. She catches me looking at her and frowns for just a second, like a single cloud passing in front of the sun, before she smiles at something Mrs. Wong says. Guilt lies heavy in my gut. I want to tell her. I really, really do.

But I’m not going to.

Chapter 18

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18

My keep-Afton-away strategy doesn’t work, however, because not even a half hour later she approaches me outside the restrooms at Volcanoes National Park. “What’s going on with you?” she asks immediately.

Shit.

“Nothing is going on with me,” I spit out. Another lie.

“Still thinking about Leo?”

“No, I am not thinking about Leo at all, except now I am, thank you very much.” It’s a good cover, I realize, acting like I’m upset over the stupid breakup. It explains things that I need to explain. Like the way my teeth are grinding together right now.

“You should talk to Mom about it.”

I snort. “Mom. Mom doesn’t even know I broke up with my boyfriend. Does she know you broke up with your boyfriend?”

“Not yet,” Afton says lightly. “She’s busy.”

“She seems to make time for the things she cares about, though,” I say bitterly.

“Yeah,” Afton says, because she thinks I’m actually saying something good about Mom. “She’s had some interesting breakups. She could give you some perspective on the subject.”

“I don’t want Mom’s perspective,” I mutter.

“That time I . . . after my first time, in the garage, I talked to her,” Afton says.

I sit up straighter. “You told Mom about having sex?”

Afton nods.

I scoff. “What did she do?”

“Oh, she wasn’t exactly happy about it,” Afton remembers. “But she hugged me. She talked me through it, even. She’s not as good as Pop about these kinds of things, maybe, but she’s capable of the parenting thing. When forced. You should talk to her.”