“Lindy apparently saved our Match-and-Catch results. She thought we might want to look at them.” He hands mine over. “Time to see if you’re my fated true love.”
We both open the white envelopes.
I read the results and smile so big my bruised face hurts. “I’m afraid I must devote the rest of my life to Brian McPhearson. Maybe with my love, he will learn to blow his nose and wear his shoes on the right feet.”
Luke nods. “And it looks like I’ll be getting to know Tracey Sniveley and her thirty cats.”
“I’m sorry. I guess there’s just no chance for us.” I reach for his hand and give it a friendly squeeze. “But we should totally double-date.” “Let’s talk when you don’t have a concussion.” Luke leans close and presses a kiss on my forehead. “Oh, wait. That’s never.” And with a wink, he walks out of my room.
Sure. He talks big now.
But one day Luke Sullivan will need saving again.
And I think I’m just the girl for the job.
acknowledgments
As usual, I have a million people to thank. It is with a grateful heart that I acknowledge:
My Facebook friends. I owe you a lot for helping me name and rename (and name and rename) Luke Sullivan. I still don’t see why Otis Sprinkledink is such a bad pick. To me it just reeks of hotness.
Editor Jamie Chavez. Book four together and you haven’t kicked me to the curb yet! Thank you for your friendship, humor, intimidating intelligence, as well as your juicing tips. Please know I will never drink beets. Never.
Editor Natalie Hanemann. It’s been a joy to get to know you and work with you. I can’t wait to hang out and talk books even more.
Everyone at Thomas Nelson. To quote Queen Tina, “You’re simply the best.” It’s an honor to be a Nelson author and see what loving care you give your books.
My blog family. Thank you for stopping by three times a week and reading, as if my insanity is entertainment . . . instead of proof I need heavy medication.
Chip MacGregor of MacGregor Literary. For traveling this road with me and for all the funny, encouraging e-mails along the way.
Erin Valentine. I couldn’t do any of this without you, and so appreciate your friendship, support, edits, and “you can do it” advice. Are you sure you weren’t a cheerleader?
Leslie and Kim. For putting up with me during “deadline lock-downs,” when I turn into something a little less friendly and a lot more Nightmare on Elm Street-ish.
Mom, Kent, Michael, Laura, Hardy, and Katie Beth. I appreciate the love, support, and occasional meals-to-go. (You can’t have too much of any of those.)
My readers, whose e-mails make my day. Thank you for giving up hours of your life to read my books, my blog, and the occasional witty line on airport bathroom walls. ( Just kidding. I would never do that . . . and admit it.)
My students, who have to put up with a lot as I juggle teaching and writing. Forgive me for the times I stare right through you as a plot enters my head or scribble down your words verbatim because I want to steal them for a book. And I’m sorry for that one review game we did that drew blood. Okay, no. I’m not. That was funny.
The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. I don’t know that anything has stretched me more spiritually than being chained to a keyboard. Thank you for giving me a dream and blessing me indeed. Now as to those extra five pounds I’ve gained writing . . . we totally need to talk about that . . .
reading group guide
1. If I’m So Sure was made into a movie, who would you cast as the characters?
2. A reoccurring theme in the book is that things aren’t always what they seem. Where was this theme evident?
3. In your own life, have you been in a situation where something or someone didn’t match the first impression?
4. Bella Kirkwood really struggles in her relationship with her dad. Is she justified in her bitterness? What advice would you give her?
5. What would the perks be of living your life on a reality show? The drawbacks? Why is America so in love with reality TV?
6. What are some issues Bella has as a result of her parents’ divorce? Describe some difficulties of being a child of divorce—either from a personal experience or from what you’ve seen a friend go through.
7. In what ways do Bella and other characters have a hard time with honesty—either in blatant lying or just not being able to share his/her heart? Why do you think it’s so difficult to tell people how we really feel?
8. Bella’s made a few mistakes in the boyfriend department. What advice would you give her? Can you think of a Bible verse that would apply?
9. Bella is learning to rely on family and friends in I’m So Sure. Describe the moments she needed them the most.
10. The character of Callie got so obsessed with winning the prom queen contest, she made some really bad decisions. Have you ever gotten so focused on something (one particular friend, a boy, a job, a test) that other things or relationships suffered?
11. How did Bella’s “gift” of nosiness lead her into trouble? Do you have a dominant flaw that sometimes lands you in hot water?
12. Bella splits her time between Manhattan and Truman, Oklahoma. What are the perks of each? The downsides? What do you think God is trying to teach Bella with this contrast?
13. What do you believe the title I’m So Sure means? When you are making a decision or have a problem, how do you know for certain what the right answer is?
New York's social darling just woke up in a nightmare:
Oklahoma.
Problem is, it's right where God wants her.
VISIT JENNYBJONES.COM
Follow Bella as she trades her Manolos for clown shoes to unravel the secrets of the big top in . . .
So
OVER MY
Head
the next installment in The Charmed Life Series
In Stores May 2010
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an excerpt from
So Over My Head
If my love life was the knife toss at a circus, I’d have Luke Sullivan speared to the wall with an apple in his mouth.
“Ladies and gentlemen! The Fritz Family welcomes you to the greatest show on earth!” A man in a top hat stands in the center of a giant tent, his curlicue mustache as delicate as his voice is strong.
“Prepare to be amazed. Prepare to be wowed. Allow us to entertain you with sights you’ve never seen, horses whose feats will astound you, and death-defying acrobatics!”
On this first night open to the public, the crowd stands in a swarm of shouts and applause.
I stay seated and jot down some quick notes for the Truman High Tribune. Or at least that’s what I’m pretending to do. In actuality, it’s taking all my energy just to be civil.
“I just don’t see why you had to invite her.”
From his standing position, Luke glances down. “Are we back to that again?”
“You and I are working on the carnival story. Not Ashley.” Ashley Timmons, a new girl who joined the newspaper staff last week, has become my least favorite person on the planet. She’s not quite as awful as those on the top of that list—namely the handful of people who’ve tried to do me bodily harm over the last year. But icky nonetheless. Fresh from Kansas City with her brother, Ashley thinks she is to journalism what Tiger Woods is to golf. She’s disgustingly cute, and worst of all, she’s Luke’s ex-girlfriend. She only moved away for two years, but I can tell she’s ready to rekindle anything they used to have. It doesn’t take a keen reporter’s intuition to see that. Just anyone with at least one working eyeball.
“We’ve hung out with them all week, Luke.”
“I haven’t seen Kyle in a long time, and he’ll be leaving soon for college.” Luke searches my face. “I’ve included you in everything.
Have you felt left out?”
“No.” I just want her left out. I don’t mind the return of his friend Kyle at all. But where Kyle is . . . there you’ll find his sister.
“Tonight isn’t about hanging out with your friend though. He’s not even here. You invited Ashley for the paper.”
“You’ve been ticked at me ever since your last article. But it was weak on verbs and lacked your usual creativity.” He sits down and trains those intense eyes on mine.
“Yeah, and then you proceeded to show me some piece of writing wonderment your new recruit produced.” Ashley came with glowing recommendations from her former journalism teachers.
Everyone on our staff thinks she is, like, the greatest thing to writing since the delete key. Everyone but me.
“You know what your problem is, Bella? Number one, you’re jealous and insecure—”
“Of her?” I toss my hair and laugh. “Maybe I just don’t like the way she’s thrown herself at you from the second she stepped into the classroom. I’m not insecure, but I’m also not stupid.”
Luke’s mouth twitches. “I meant insecure of your writing abilities. But now that you mention it, you probably are jealous of my talking to her. That would fit.”
“Fit what?” A band of clowns ride unicycles in the ring, but I don’t even bother to watch.
“It would fit with the Bella Kirkwood pattern.” He lifts a dark brow. “You are completely distrusting of the entire male species. I guess one couldn’t blame you, given your dad’s history and your experience with your ex, but I have no desire to get back with an old girlfriend.”
“This is outrageous. I do not have trust issues with guys! And you know what else?”
“I’m dying to hear more.”
“I think you’re enjoying all the attention from Ashley.” All Luke and I have done is fight lately. While digging into other people’s business might be my spiritual gift, I’m beginning to think arguing comes second.
“Ever since we’ve been together, you’ve balked at my every comment in journalism. You can’t stand to be criticized—even when it’s for your own good. And”—his blue eyes flash—“you’re just waiting for me to cheat on you like Hunter. You think I don’t see that?”
Hunter would be my ex-boyfriend from Manhattan. This past fall I caught him doing the tongue tango with my former best friend Mia. And then not too long ago I considered getting back with him. He swept me up with this new version of Hunter Penbrook, told me he had started going to church, said all the right things, bought me coffee. It’s a little hard to resist a cute guy bearing a mocha latte with extra whip, you know? Luckily, at prom two weeks ago, I saw the light and let that rotten fish off my hook.
“I’m not worried about you cheating on me, Luke. I’m tired of you bossing me around and acting all ‘I’m in charge.’”
“I am in charge. I’m the editor.”
“Not of our relationship.”
“I’m back!” Ashley chooses that very moment to flounce back to her seat. “I got you a cotton candy.” She hands the pink confection to Luke. “Bella, I figured you’re like most girls and need to watch your weight, so I didn’t get you anything. What’d I miss?”
Luke holds me down with his arm. “Don’t even think about it,” he whispers.
The crowd oohs and ahhhs as the Amazing Alfredo begins juggling two long silver swords. I applaud politely when he pulls a third one out of his hat and tosses it into the air with the rest. I’d hate to think where that sword was really hiding.
Like a distant relative, the Fritz Family Carnival comes to Truman, Oklahoma, every April and sets up camp on land that, I’m told, goes way back in the Fritz genealogy. They stay at least a month—working on additional routines, training new employees, giving the local elementary teachers a nice afternoon field trip—and don’t leave until they can ride out bigger and better than the year before. And while that might be odd, it’s nothing compared to the fact that I’m sitting on the bleachers between my boyfriend and a girl who has been openly flirting with him. That chick needs to learn some boundaries.
“Bella, Luke said you might need some help with your article.”
He holds up a hand. “I just thought it would be interesting to get our three perspectives. Bella will still handle the interviews.” excerpt from “It’s been so great to work with you again, Luke.” Ashley’s smile could charm the shirt off Robert Pattinson. “Just like old times, huh?” Her eyes gaze into his. Like I’m not even there. “Kyle’s really enjoyed hanging out. Too bad he had a study session tonight.”
Luke leans close, his mouth poised near my ear. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean I’m going to slack off on your writing.
You’re still a staff member. And you know I do not boss you around any other time. I have been nothing but respectful to you.” He returns his attention to the ring. “Did you write down the fat lady’s stats?”
“Of course I did.” I scribble something illegible on my paper.
No, I didn’t get her stats. I’m too busy fighting.
“She’s seven hundred and twenty-nine pounds, in case you missed it,” Ashley chirps.
“Thanks.” Lord, help me be kind to this girl.
“You always act like I can’t handle the writing assignments,” I whisper for Luke’s ears only. “I think I have more than proven I can.
Not only can I write, but I can crank out some award-winning writing while crime solving.”
After I moved to Truman, I accidentally became the Nancy Drew of Oklahoma. Now that I’m known for my mystery solving skills, friends and strangers want me to help them out. Just last week I tracked down a stolen iPhone and did a little spying for a suspicious girlfriend who thought her boyfriend Buster was cheating. It’s true he hadn’t been going to football practice like he said; I found him at Margie Peacock’s School of Ballet, lined up on the bar doing pirouettes and high kicks. I hear he makes a heck of a swan in Margie’s recital.
“I’m not doubting your writing skills.” Luke claps as the magian cian leaves, and Betty the Bearded Lady bows before starting her performance.
I’m transfixed by the hair on her face, and it suddenly makes me feel a whole lot less self-conscious about the fact that I didn’t shave my legs last night. The audience claps in time to the spirited music as the woman’s collie jumps through her hula hoop, then dances to the beat on its hind legs.
I shoot a pointed look at his old flame. “Let’s talk about this later.”
Ashley reaches around me and puts her hand on Luke’s knee.
“I forgot—I have my latest assignment on my laptop in the car. You told me to spice up my verbs, and I revised it. I wanted you to look at it.” She returns to clapping for the Bearded Lady.
“Yes, Luke. She wants you to check out her spicy verbs.”
“At least she takes constructive criticism well.” His voice is just low enough for me to hear.
“That girl wants you back. Period.”
“I’m not Hunter. And I’m not your dad.”
“I have to go interview Betty the Bearded Lady.” And I stomp down the bleachers to find her trailer outside. When I glance back, Ashley has scooted down. And taken my place.
The only thing scarier than living
on the edge stepping off it
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from Jenny B. Jones
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I'm So Sure (2009) Page 24