Tragedy Girl by Christine Hurley Deriso

Tragedy Girl by Christine Hurley Deriso

Author:Christine Hurley Deriso [Christine Hurley Deriso]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult novel, Young Adult, christine hurley deriso, christine deriso, teen, teen lit, tragedy girl, young adult fiction, ya fiction, ya novel, YA, christine hurley, tradgedy girl
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2016-04-08T07:00:00+00:00


Sixteen

“Did you finish your paper?”

I nod, taking the sandwich from the baggie in my brown paper bag. “I was up till midnight, but I cranked it out.”

Blake and I are having lunch at a picnic table outside the cafeteria. I’d suggested privacy for a couple of reasons: Things seem to have smoothed over since I pissed off Lauren last week about the note, but I’m still wary of invading her space. Here I come, not only barging into her and Melanie’s friendship but making a habit of arranging double dates with Mel, right on the heels of Lauren’s breakup. I can only imagine how threatened she must feel. How would I have felt if some interloper had suddenly insinuated herself into my friendship with Sawbones, particularly if I’d been especially vulnerable at the time?

I get it, so I’m trying to back off a bit and give Lauren and Melanie a little space. I think everything’s cool, but I don’t want to screw anything up. Lauren and Melanie are the only girlfriends I have on Hollis Island. Maybe it’s my imagination, but my other classmates seem to be keeping their distance. Is it because I’ve gotten so close to Blake so quickly? Do people resent it, like Natalie does? Do they think I’m a flake, or worse, an insensitive jerk? A full-of-myself diva? Do they mistrust me? Do they mistrust Blake?

Speaking of whom …

I’d hoped Blake would volunteer information at lunch today about the conversation I interrupted at his house. I still can’t shake Garrett’s intensity about insisting he won’t leave Blake alone with … with whom? It has to be me. Who else could he have been talking about? But there has to be some easy explanation—the brothers were pretty much talking in shorthand, like there was some deal, some arrangement, that they’d both agreed to well before the conversation took place, like the way some siblings agree to take turns riding shotgun in the car or whatever. It’s a brother thing, right? So why wouldn’t Blake just tell me what they were talking about? He’s got to know I’m curious.

But all Blake is doing is making small talk, munching an apple while I eat my sandwich in the warm muggy breeze. I can smell the salt in the air. How crazy that I used to count the days until our next beach visit. Now that I live here, I haven’t been to the beach a single time. It’s just a couple of blocks over, and yet it seems almost sacrilegious to go there without my parents. Maybe one day soon, I’ll allow myself to revisit the girl I was before they died. Or maybe that girl died that day too. Maybe that’s why I’ve gotten so close to Blake so fast; he’s my express-train ticket to my new life.

“ … Mr. Loring’s class?”

I squint at Blake. “Sorry; what did you say?”

“I was asking about your test in Mr. Loring’s class,” Blake says, his tone a little peevish. “You seem awfully distracted.



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