The city council wanted to use Blake’s paintings for cotillion, as a sort of pre-exhibit exhibit, with them all displayed in one place before they’re spread out all over town. It took him a long time to clean off the soot and restore them. I can still see some fire damage on some of the edges, but I think it gives them character. They look more weathered and authentic.
Between the paintings, guys in black tuxes and girls in colorful flowing formals float across the dance floor, like waves on the ocean. In the middle of it all is Kasey, surrounded by her court, wearing her sash and crown, the new Beachcomber’s Queen. Blake is beside her.
I turn toward the redone painting, Hope, and my own face smiles back at me. I press the pendant at my neck while the wind machine ruffles through my hair. It would take a long time for it to grow back to the length it was before, the length that the girl in the picture has, but I’ve decided I like it short.
“Hey.” Blake walks up behind me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”
“We just got here.” I nod toward the makeshift stage where Marshall and his band are setting up. “Did you get the problem taken care of?”
He rolls his eyes. “We had to drive all the way to Olympia to get a replacement part for Marshall’s amp, but he wasn’t about to miss out on playing at the Pacific Cliffs Inn. I only hope his band doesn’t shake the plaster off the walls. I promised Mrs. Phillips no damage.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me on the back of the neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to do the picture thing, or ride with you to the dance.”
“Don’t worry.” I lean back against him, “You can make up for it later.”
He rests his chin on my shoulder. “So, what do you think?”
I take in the whole room: his paintings blowing in the artificial breeze, the lights playing across everyone’s faces, the music—slow and sappy, Kasey giggling with the other girls from the pageant, Angie sulking in the corner while Randall tries to apologize, Marshall tuning his guitar onstage, Caitlyn and Andrew making slow circles in the middle of the dance floor, Mom and Dad chatting with people from town by the refreshment table, even Hannah and her unknown trophy date flipping through a scrapbook of Beachcomber’s pageants past.
It feels like I belong here. It feels like home.
I turn around, wrap my arms around his neck, and whisper in his ear, “I think everything is absolutely beautiful.”
Blake brushes back my hair and slides his fingers down my scar and along my cheekbone. He cups my face in his hand. “Yes. You are.”
I touch the stone at my throat and think about what I am now—not perfect, still scarred, not completely whole, but not broken either. For the first time in forever I feel good about myself, like I’m okay.
Maybe even beautiful.
Acknowledgments
Way back when I started this process, I remember reading the acknowledgment sections for the books I read. One author said something like, “It takes an army to write a book.” At that point, working alone on my laptop, I couldn’t comprehend how that could be true. Now I know. I’m grateful for the opportunity to say a huge (if grossly inadequate) thank-you to my personal army—the people who have made this dream a reality:
First, to my biggest supporter, cheerleader, and beloved husband, David. I love you! I would be nowhere without you. Next, to my four kids, David, Sabrina, Zach, and Daniel, who have supported me through this journey even when they had to eat cold cereal for dinner and do their own laundry. Thank you to my amazing extended family: my parents, Dale and Linda Shaw, who taught me to work hard, do what’s right, and live my dreams; Kristy, my only blood sister, who has walked every step of this journey with me; my mentor, sister-in-law, and shoulder to cry on, Angela Morrison, for teaching me pretty much everything I needed to know to get me to this point; and my brothers and my “extended” sisters (sisters-in-law) for their support and willingness to read.
Thank you to my lovely agent, Sara Megibow, for being adviser, cheerleader, counselor, friend, and sometimes even mom, and for believing in me from the beginning. Thank you to Anita, Kristin, and Lindsay at Nelson Literary Agency.
Thank you to my editor, Mary Kate Castellani, for pushing me when I needed to be pushed and pulling me back when I needed that, too. You’re a master of your craft! Thank you to the rest of the unseen army at Walker.
Thank you to the members of the most incredible critique group I could have stumbled upon: Val Serdy, Joan Wittler, Blessy Mathew, Sarah Showell, Michele Gawenka, and Monica White, for reading and reading and reading and telling me the truth even when I hated you for it. Thanks to my first teen readers: my daughter, Sabrina, and her best friend Ashlyn; Abby for giving it to me straight; and my niece Ashley for her simple, encouraging question, “Is there any more?” Thanks to my adult beta readers: my sister, Kristy; my almost sister, Christie; Mom; Stacy; Lucy; Lynn; and Miranda. Thanks to my literary agency mates, my Apocalypsies group, SCBWI Western Washington, SCBWI South Sound, the Class of 2K12, and my ANWA sisters. Thanks to Ann Gonzalez for helping me hone my craft and for giving me the writing prompt that sparked this story.
Thanks to Jason and his family—Marianne, Kevin, and Julie—for teaching me about inner strength and compassion.
Thank you to the many survivors of abuse for your strength; you are in my prayers.
Thank you most of all to the Divine Creator and Author of the universe; I know I am nothing without you. I know I have been truly blessed.
Copyright © 2012 by Jennifer Shaw Wolf
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This electronic edition published in April 2012
Published in the United States of America in April 2012
by Walker Publishing Company, Inc., a division of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.
www.bloomsburyteens.com
For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to
Permissions, Bloomsbury BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wolf, Jennifer Shaw.
Breaking beautiful / Jennifer Shaw Wolf.
p. cm.
Summary: Allie is overwhelmed when her boyfriend, Trip, dies in a car accident, leaving her scarred and
unable to recall what happened that night, but she feels she must uncover the truth, even if it could hurt
the people who tried to save her from Trip’s abuse.
ISBN 978-0-80272-372-7 (e-book)
[1. Accidents—Fiction. 2. Memory—Fiction. 3. Dating violence—Fiction.
4. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. 5. Twins—Fiction. 6. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction.
7. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.W81855213Bre 2012 [Fic]— dc22 2011010944
Book design by Regina Roff
Breaking Beautiful Page 28