What do you think?
Rate this book
352 pages, Paperback
First published March 5, 2013
You need to forgive yourself.
"I think I can make you happy," he said, his eyes on the sky. "I also think you're funny as hell."
"Thanks," I said, "but I'm pretty sure I've never been happy."
"Exactly."
“What’s his name?” Nez whispered. “Asshole,” I whispered back. “Wick,” Rawe said, her voice exploding out of her like a volcano, “if I say your name one more time . . .” “Jeez Louise,” Nez whispered. “You better make this one.”
Little rocks popped like popcorn under the tires as we pulled in at a sign that read: Turning Pines Wilderness Camp— Helping Teenagers, One Life at a Time.
Camp? Fucking camp? My parents shipped me all the way to California to sleep in dirt?
I sat there for a moment, my tailbone throbbing. What was
I doing? I didn’t belong here. This seriously sucked. Even Troyer could chop wood, and she couldn’t even talk.
Ben’s words were like oxygen stoking a fire, and my body a spark. I reached for his hand in the darkness. He rubbed his thumb on the underside of my palm so gently, so deliberately, the kind of touch that, if you let it, has the power to make you go blind.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I was a girl who’d given up when I got here and was still giving up. Even when faced with the possibility of something good, I gave up, because it was easier than knowing it wouldn’t last.
"The forgiveness will come."
“You get in the middle, Cassie,” Leisner said. “Let the guns run the stern.” He made a muscle.
“Your guns look like they’re out of ammo.” I laughed.
There was no way I was letting one of them be in charge of steering this thing. If I was forced to go out into the middle of the lake with these two idiots, at least I wanted to know I would be able to steer my way back.
Little rocks popped like popcorn under the tires as we pulled in at a sign that read: Turning Pines Wilderness Camp— Helping Teenagers, One Life at a Time.
Camp? Fucking camp? My parents shipped me all the way to California to sleep in dirt?
I sat there for a moment, my tailbone throbbing. What was
I doing? I didn’t belong here. This seriously sucked. Even Troyer could chop wood, and she couldn’t even talk.
Ben’s words were like oxygen stoking a fire, and my body a spark. I reached for his hand in the darkness. He rubbed his thumb on the underside of my palm so gently, so deliberately, the kind of touch that, if you let it, has the power to make you go blind.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I was a girl who’d given up when I got here and was still giving up. Even when faced with the possibility of something good, I gave up, because it was easier than knowing it wouldn’t last.