Junior year is supposed to be tough. Exams, term papers, homework, college tours, and participation in extra-curricular activities can all add up to non-stop stress. But Melinda Banner has goals to achieve and dreams to make real. This year, she’ll be unstoppable. But even over achievers need a break.
While walking in the woods to take a break from the stress of it all, Melinda meets a boy named Connor. After a few more run-ins, the two settle into an uneasy friendship, if you can even call it that.
But Connor's closed and mysterious. Whenever Melinda asks too many questions, he suddenly has to go or is no longer interested in talking. When they’re together, she’s torn between wanting him to open up and running away as fast as she can. Still she can't seem to shake her budding interest in him.
Connor has his own way of looking at the world, and his views often conflict with Melinda’s practical nature. Can you like someone and loathe them at the same time? Is he even worth the emotional tug on her heartstrings or distraction from all things Junior year?
And, as if she needs another project right now, Melinda starts to obsess over the abandoned estate she passes on the way to school each day. Between Connor and the old estate, Melinda's beginning to think she's taking on too much.
But Melinda's smart. She finds a way to indulge her interest in the estate and fulfill her obligations. She will uncover the truth behind the aging edifice for an epic article in the school newspaper.
But when her investigation reveals a connection between Connor and a tragedy long-since forgotten, Melinda has a choice: put off her junior year achievements to save a local landmark and a boy who constantly pushes her away or put them both out of her mind for good and focus on making the grade.
EXCERPT
Moving
day ends with a crash, a series of thuds, and shattering glass.
The box labeled “Melinda’s Room” careens
down the back staircase and dive-bombs on to the marble tile. All of my
carefully packed, triple-layered, bubble-wrapped treasures fly out and scatter
around the unfamiliar kitchen.
I drop to the floor, grabbing for
debris. “Please tell me my trophies weren’t in there.”
“Watch yourself, miss.” The head mover
shoves his hands into a pair of work gloves and hefts a cracked mirror. His
partner hands me a piece of paper. “Write down a description of the contents.
We’ll replace anything that’s broken.”
I jump back up, meeting him eye to eye.
“Can you replace a trophy I won five years ago at the Tri-State Youth Show
Jumping Expo?”
My fury is met with a blank expression.
I sigh heavily and slide the bottom of my black Converse over the floor,
listening for the crunch of broken glass. One of the movers lifts the box,
uncovering the bottom half of my trophy. I locate the top half and attempt to
click them back together, like two misfit puzzle pieces.
By the time Mom pushes through the door,
carrying a crate of her work files, I’ve given up any hope of repair. A bent
picture frame snaps apart when she steps on it. “What happened here?”
I point at the movers. “They dropped my
box. The one with my trophies.”
The men mutter apologies and back out of
the room.
“The way our luck runs, I’m surprised we
made it this far without major breakage.” Mom sets her crate down gently and
puts her arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry it had to be your stuff that was
damaged, Mel.”
I shrug her off. “No use crying about it
now.”
She finds a broom in the nearest closet
and sweeps up the shattered glass while I gather up my sports memorabilia.
Basketball team photos, a collage of equestrian events featuring me and my
horse, Truffle, and a tangled heap of medals I’d collected over the years.
I circle the kitchen, opening and
closing dozens of half-empty drawers, searching for a roll of garbage bags.
“Under the sink,” Mom says.
I locate the bags, pull one out, and
shake it open. “Tell me again. Why did we think moving was a good idea?”
Mom’s eyebrows inch up. “Did you ever
really approve?”
“Ha, ha. Don’t ask questions if you
don’t like the answers.”
The unspoken truth hangs in the air
between us. After Dad died five years ago, Mom was just as broken as my riding
trophy. She didn’t recover until she met the second love of her life at the age
of forty-five. Brian Welsh approached her at a pharmaceutical industry
conference last year. They had lunch. He asked for her card and called her the
next day. Two months later, he gave her a ring.
She’d dated my dad for five years before
they even talked about marriage.
Author Bio
Jennifer DiGiovanni is the author of the School Dayz Series. When she’s not writing or reading, she likes to try new sports and activities from archery to ballroom dancing, with varying degrees of success.
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