She pulled out the cover letter. “We are pleased to…” She snapped her head up, eyes wide and face blanched.
Bria burst out laughing. “You got in, right?”
“I’m going to London.”
“You’re going to London.”
Abby screamed and jumped a foot in the air. “Okay! Let’s do this!” She pulled her headset up and cleared her throat. “Thirty minutes to places, please.”
Bria leaned against Ben, leading him back into the hallway outside the auditorium. “Thanks. That’s exactly what she needed.”
“I know.” A lazy smile drifted across his face. “She has been my sister longer than she’s been your friend.”
“Barely. Besides, you’re a terrible brother.”
“True.” He wrapped her arms around his waist and backed her into a wall to steal a kiss. “I’m totally hitting on her best friend.”
“Poor girl.” She slid her hands up his back and he shivered. “How could she possibly resist you?”
He slowly lowered his lips to hers, drawing the kiss out for a long, charged moment. “She did. For a long time.”
She kissed him, and then freed one hand to push against his chest, twirling under their linked arms to tow him down the hall. “Hurry up. Abby will murder us in our sleep if we miss the curtain.”
“You’re the one stalling.” He caught her around her waist and squeezed her tight. “Besides, she’d never kill us in our sleep. She’d wait ‘till we’re awake and torture us.”
“Our lives will be so boring with her off in London.”
He grinned. “Boring? I think we can figure out how to make them less boring.”
“Oh yeah?” She turned in his arms and toyed with the collar of his shirt. “I have a few ideas of my own.”
“Like what?”
She kept her eyes away from his. “Would you even rethink Oregon?”
“I don’t know.” He rested his head against hers. “I don’t want to be that far away from you. I just got you back.”
She stole a kiss. “I looked into their accounting program.”
He eased back, hands still firm on her hips. “Really?”
“It’s a good school. I thought maybe…”
Ben silenced her with a kiss, lips crashing into hers.
“I love the taste of Skittles,” she said, still pressed against him.
One of the doors to the auditorium swung open and Rafael stepped into the hall.
“Hey.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders. “Dolores said you were back here.”
She eased away from Ben. “Here I am.”
“Jackie said you gave your dad our demo,” Raf said. “Why?”
She shrugged and glanced back at Ben. “We might not have ended up together if not for you. Besides, Battle Goat is kind of good.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
He shifted awkwardly. “I’m really happy for you guys.”
“Thanks.” She slipped back into a smile.
“I’ll see you around,” Raf said. “Okay?”
“Sure.”
Raf nodded and headed back inside.
The door clicked closed and Ben took her hand, drawing her close.
“Is okay that I still want to punch him?” he asked.
Bria laughed and shook her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know how I feel about violence.”
“Then can I just kiss you again?”
She stood on the tips of her toes. “Always.”
Acknowledgments
Once upon a time, an idea took root in my head and now, that idea has turned itself into a book. Much of the credit for this transformation goes to the wonderful people who have supported, encouraged, and driven me forward. Many, many thanks to each and every one of you.
I am immensely grateful to Meredith Rich, editor extraordinaire. Your faith, guidance, and cheerleading made this story stronger and richer, and made this writer’s dreams come true.
Thank you to my husband, Joe, who made me believe in love at first sight and never doubted that I’d become a real live published author some day.
Leigh Ann Kopans, thank you hardly seems like enough. This story would not even exist if you hadn’t reached out to me after that first pitch contest and asked to read GUARDIAN. You gave me faith in my writing and have been with me every step of this journey as a writer-momma. Your friendship is truly invaluable.
Thank you to all my critique partners, beta readers and fellow writers.
To Megan Whitmer, who read scenes from this book when they belonged in another story and gave me the courage to write things that make me blush.
To Dahlia Adler and Maggie Hall, whose late-night request for kissing scenes sparked this entire story.
To Cait Greer, whose enthusiastic thumbs up to my first draft gave me the motivation to try my hand at pitching this manuscript.
To KK Hendin, who loves Ben as much as Bria does.
To Heather Marie, who helped this story rise above it’s own clichés.
To Erica M. Chapman and Brenda Drake, the fairy godmother of the writing community, whose rejection and feedback made my opening chapter so much stronger.
To Krista Van Dolzer, whose faith in this little story started me on this path.
To Elizabeth Otto, my source for all things related to realistically maiming my characters.
To the writing community on twitter, for holding my hand through drafting, revising, contesting and submitting. For everyone who worked on my pitch, my query, my first chapters or my synopsis. Angi, Taryn, Darci, Hayley, Brianna, Carey and more. You are all worth your weight in gold. I know I’ll forget someone but that’s because my brain is mush, not because you’re not awesome.
To my YA Misfits, for giving me a place to fit in when I felt like an amateur and a fraud.
To Debbie Novero, my favorite real life reader and brainstorming partner.
To my family: Joe (yes, you get two thank you’s and deserve even more) and my kiddos, Ryan and Ember, who have shared me with my fictional babies far too much.
To my parents, Bob and Judy Jamison, who never blinked when I brought home a boy with tattoos and piercings and promptly decided to marry him. Your acceptance of me and my friends, despite appearances, taught me more than your words ever could.
To my in-laws, Doug and Kim Kaczorowski, in whose home the idea for this story was born.
To my siblings: Myk, Molly, Nancy and DJ. You guys made me who I am (although, lets all agree: life is more fun without excluding walls). Also, welcome Lauren. You’re in for a ride!
To the rest of the Kaczorowskis - Scott, In-ok, Mike, Sarah and Ella, for running interference with the kids while I typed out notes on my phone instead of enjoying the holidays.
Finally, my gratitude to God for endowing His creation with the ability to create and breath life into empty words.
About the Author
Raised in Avon, Ohio, the duct tape capital of the world, Jenny Kaczorowski began her writing career as a featured columnist for her hometown newspaper. After earning a degree in photojournalism from Kent State University, she vowed to never spend another winter in Ohio and moved to Los Angeles, where there is far too much sunshine.
Amid working as a grant writer for Sound Art, a non-profit that teaches music in inner-city neighborhoods, and raising two kids, Jenny decided to do something with all the snippets of stories she wrote during microeconomics and began writing for young adults. She likes her heroines smart and quirky, her heroes nice, and her kisses sweet.
Apart from writing, Jenny is still an avid photographer, loves music despite no discernable musical talent and reads the dictionary for fun. She lives near Los Angeles with her husband, son and daughter. The four of them are always looking for their adventure.
Copyright © 2013 by Jenny Kaczorowski
All rights reserved. You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce, or oth
erwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means, (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
First published in December, 2013
by Bloomsbury Spark, an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.
www.bloomsbury.com
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon request
ISBN 978-1-61963-469-5
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Cover design by Tom Forget
The Art of Falling Page 20