Hush, Hush (Hush, Hush, #1)

by Becca Fitzpatrick

He hung up on me. I stared at the phone in disbelief, then ripped a clean sheet of paper from my notebook. I scribbled Jerk on the first line. On the line beneath it I added, Smokes cigars. Will die of lung cancer. Hopefully soon. Excellent physical shape.

Biggest dream?” I was proud of this one because I knew it would stump him. It required forethought. “Kiss you.”

The tackiest of all that is tacky

“You belong to a cult?” I realized too late that while I sounded surprised, I shouldn’t have. “As it turns out, I’m in need of a healthy female sacrifice. I’d planned on luring her into trusting me first, but if you’re ready now . . .”

spoiler alert

“Say ‘provoking’ again. Your mouth looks provocative when you do.”

Seriously?

“Trust me, Dorth, there are no boys in my life.” Okay, maybe there were two lurking on the fringe, circling from afar, but since I didn’t know either very well, and one outright frightened me, it felt safer to close my eyes and pretend they weren’t there.

Every YA romance ever summed up in a single sentence

“First week at school and he’s already made friends. Lucky guy.” He slid me a look. “Could have a dark and dangerous side we know nothing about.”

Subtle hints dropped

“Before I forget, I brought your homework. Where do you want me to put it?” She pointed at the trash can. “Right there will be fine.”

“Were you ever scared of Dad?” “Whenever the New England Patriots lost.”

“Homework was brutal, huh?” He was making fun of me. “I didn’t do homework.” He had the smile of a fox. “Who did you do?” I was speechless a moment. I stood there with my mouth slightly open. “Was that an innuendo?” “Just curious what my competition is.”

cringe intensifies

Lips could use some gloss. I licked my bottom lip, giving it a wet shine.

Nothing like the natural look

He reached behind his seat and dragged out a large gun. I screamed. He leaned over and sealed my mouth with his hand. “Paintball gun,” he said. His tone had chilled.

DRAMA

“Do you think the Bible is accurate? I mean, do you think it’s real?” “I think Pastor Calvin is hot. In a fortysomething way. That pretty much sums up my religious conviction.” After I hung up, I went to my room and slid under the covers.

What best friends be for

I knew my mom was planning to attend a wedding and reception tonight for the daughter of a friend from work, but if I told her Elliot had roughed me up, there was no way she’d go.

At least theres a different excuse every time

“Bad news,” he said. “It’s the engine.” I tried to look informed and intelligent, but I had a feeling my expression just looked blank. Patch raised an eyebrow and said, “May it rest in peace.”

“No,” I said as confidently as possible under the circumstances. And the circumstances were that I was lying through my teeth.

I rose to my feet, found my balance on the mattress, and kicked him as hard as I could in the stomach. “You’ve got one more minute,” he said. “Get your anger out of your system. Then I take over.”

“Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn’t.”

“Definitely right. Usually right,” Patch continued. “Mostly right. Maybe right.” “Maybe not right now.”

“What’s the make and color?” Patch asked, catching the keys. “Hard to tell. Part Volkswagen, part Chevette. It used to be blue. That was before it corroded to orange.

lol sounds just like my car

“Every year at the start of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan, he takes control of my body. Two whole weeks. That’s how long I forfeit control. No freedom, no choice. I don’t get the luxury of escaping during those two weeks, loaning my body out, then coming back when it’s all over. Then I might be able to convince myself it wasn’t really happening. No. I’m still in there, a prisoner inside my own body, living every moment of it,” he said in a grinding tone. “Do you know what that feels like? Do you?” he shouted.

That is such a weak storyline. Also, where the hell is patch?

Last summer he made his first trip to your house, though you didn’t notice. He followed you shopping a few times. Every now and then, he made a special trip out of his way to find you. Then he enrolled at your school.

Obvious symbols for love

Patch would know Jules—Chauncey—was up to something.

The names here are just something else.

He strode toward me. In a panic, I brought the scalpel up as hard as I could. It met his palm, slicing through skin. Jules hissed and drew back. Not waiting, I plunged the scalpel down into his thigh. Jules gaped at the metal protruding from his leg. He jerked it out using both hands, his face contorting in pain. He opened his hands, and the scalpel fell with a clatter.

She seriously just poked him with it and left it inside him??

“Good luck trying to escape,” he said with a cynical smile that seemed to require a lot of effort. “You’ll see what I mean.” Then he sank to the ground.

An immortal nephilim - but a good kick in the yarbles and hes done for.

A sob escaped Vee. We both knew I was lying. Jules’s desire for revenge outweighed his wound.

Such angst

I wondered briefly if Patch was still in the building, but it was more of a side thought.

Well about time she does

Shadows stretched back and forth across the polished floor as the moonlight broke through the clouds. Jules stood with his back to the bleachers, and I saw Patch move behind him.

Well finally.

I won’t be able to stay inside you much longer, Patch spoke to my thoughts. It’s not Cheshvan and I’m not allowed.

Thats what he said.

I smacked my palms against the door’s slit of a window. “Help! Can anyone hear me? Help!”

Seriously? She's in an abandoned highschool in the middle of the night

I opened my eyes. Jules was much closer. I was going to have to find another way out.

WTH is patch doing at this moment? Still just lying on the floor?

The impact jerked my legs loose, my hands my only attachment to the ladder. “Help!” I screamed, my legs bicycling through air.

Cliché much?

And then, through the fear and panic, I heard Patch’s voice. Block him out. Keep climbing. The ladder’s intact. “I can’t,” I sobbed. “I’ll fall!” Block him out. Close your eyes. Listen to my voice.

What about tackling him in stead?

Patch was far below on the gym floor, still as death.

Just standing there. Some guardian angel he is.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” I said quietly, reeling with fright. “Am I a ghost?” “When you jumped, the sacrifice killed Jules. Technically, when you came back, he should have too. But since he didn’t have a soul, he had nothing to revive his body.”

How convenient.

“You can’t see my wings,” he said. “They’re made of spiritual matter.”

Lord save me..

“She’ll kill me if she finds you in here. Can you climb trees? Tell me you can climb a tree!” Patch grinned. “I can fly.” Oh. Right. Well, okay.

These attempts at humor could be funny if they werent so cringeworthy..