Okay. Almost the craziest thing. The real true craziest thing? I try not to talk about it. Or her. Ever. Today, Jason is waiting in the parking lot of my new school in my new town where Dad and I moved to remake our lives after my mother did what she did — a story I never repeat, to anyone. I even changed my first name so nobody would put two and two together and say, “You’re her daughter?” When I come outside, slinging my new red backpack over my shoulder (the backpack’s woven with hemp because I cart around so many books these days — not schoolbooks, just stuff I like to read), he’s slouching casually against his car, arms crossed, looking unbelievably hot with that sandy-blond windblown hair. Girls glance at him as they pass, putting extra swing in their hips. His eyes meet mine. Sweat breaks out in a thin line over my upper lip. My heart beats so fast, I feel like I’m running uphill. I start to walk the other way, quickly, but he jogs after me. “Beth,” he calls.
What do You think about Things I’ll Never Say (2015)?
