There You'll Find Me by Jenny B. Jones

Author:Jenny B. Jones [Jones, Jenny B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Family & Relationships, Juvenile Fiction, Religious
Google: vlpjBaN5A8wC
Amazon: B006ZK4FXW
Publisher: Thomas Nelson Publishers
Published: 2011-10-04T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

In the Bible you said your constant love and truth will always guard me. I can’t believe parts of the Dun Aengus fortress still stand. It made me think how as crazy as it is, even though this has been on Inishmore Island over thousands of years, you’re always with me. You stay the same. Nothing wears you down.

—Travel Journal of Will Sinclair, Abbeyglen, Ireland

He kissed you?”

Erin stopped in her tracks right in front of the entrance to school, as if the shock had paralyzed her legs.

“I can’t believe you kept this from me. Finley, that’s awesome.”

“No, it’s not. It’s awful.”

“I’d take that kind of awful any day,” she said. “But be honest. Didn’t any part of you just . . . hope?”

“It’s not that I thought he liked me. I know that kiss was simply a diversion.” Just something Beckett did on a regular basis with any chick with lips. “But still. There might’ve been the tiniest sliver of my heart in that. Some part of me who wanted Beckett to say, ‘I’ve never felt anything like I did when I kissed you.’”

“It’s like Shakespeare.”

Then the fantasy continued with a few declarations of adoration, some proclamations of my intoxicating beauty. “Well, it’s not going to happen. So pretend like you know nothing about a kiss.”

Erin sighed. “Sadly, I don’t.”

I stepped through the doors of Sacred Heart and reality smacked me back to earth with the smell of disinfectant mixed with the perfume of a few hundred girls. My pulse scurried as I realized I’d forgotten two notebooks and a work sheet at home.

God, help me.

Erin and I walked into English class, and the temperature dropped a good thirty degrees.

I found the source of the cold as I took my seat in front of Beatrice.

My smile was friendly, as if I hadn’t a care in the world. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” She studied her notes for our quiz on Macbeth, not even bothering to look at me. “Taylor said you weren’t too happy about her and Beckett in the tabloids.”

“I really don’t care. Beckett and I are friends. That’s all.” And no longer that.

She turned a page of notes. “You throw yourself at him at every opportunity. It’s embarrassing really.”

I threw myself at him? Me? “That’s an . . . interesting perspective. But I think we both know it’s not true.”

“I know what I’ve seen.” Her lip curled into a snarl. “You know it’s best for both of their careers if they’re a couple—as long as they’re doing these movies.”

“And Taylor’s success means more roles for you?” Because this was more than Beatrice being protective of her cousin’s “boyfriend.” This was strictly about Beatrice.

“It’s public knowledge he’s with Taylor.”

Was he? I just didn’t know anymore. Nor did I understand why he wouldn’t come right out and tell me. “I’m his assistant. That’s it.” Or I was his assistant.

“And wasn’t that clever of you to get that job?” Bea sat back in her chair, her spine as straight as the wall behind her.

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