The room was every bit as bad as she’d thought it would be. But the difference was he was tall, almost six feet, two inches, and muscular, while she was average and not muscular. Even though they were only fraternal twins, people always commented on the similarities. Drew was handsome, built like the athletic star quarterback he was, with jet black hair that would have matched Rachel’s except for the purple streaks running through hers, deep blue eyes that did match, and those same high cheekbones. Nat was a year older than she and Drew, with short, wavy deep copper hair, an increasingly muscular build, and a good three or four inches in height on either of them. She pushed open the door to see Nat and Drew still stuffing clothes into their bags for the summer vacation. And she was meant to be the rebellious one. What was it about guys that they couldn’t live in any space that wasn’t knee deep in unwashed clothes? Okay, so maybe her own room wasn’t exactly perfect, but she was a sixteen-year-old girl. Rachel Donovan paused at the door to the room her brothers shared, steeling herself for the kind of chaos within. And then there was this summer, the summer I grew up, in more ways than one, and everyone noticed, especially the boys, especially Nat. I think of all the sunsets, dawns, and first attempts.
I think about my friendship with Rachel Donovan and her brothers Nathaniel (Nat) and Drew. When I think of my summers spent at Aunt Sookie’s Malibu “pad” as she called it, I think about first kisses, first love, and first heartbreak. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. THE EDGE is an imprint of Sparklesoup Inc.Īll Rights Reserved.
0 kommentar(er)
