Junk Miles

“Maybe. There are probably a lot of applicants.” But I had a good feeling that I would get it. Was that just another aspect of my charmed life? That I could just surely expect good things to land in my lap?

“You’re going to get it,” he repeated, looking up at Saxon’s ceiling. “And I’m going to pick fucking fruit at Zinga’s like some damn migrant worker.”

“You work hard, Jake. It’s honest work,” I argued.

“My dad invited me to go see him. At his family’s place.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “They’re in New York. I was thinking of going.”

“How’s your…step-dad going to take this?” I asked.

Jake shrugged. “I know you have a hard time believing this, Bren, but he’ll probably be relieved not to have to worry about me all of the time.”

“He cares about you,” I countered.

He shook his head. “He feels responsible for me. If he knew my father was around, I think he’d want me to go with him. At least for a while.”

“I think you’re wrong.” I felt petulant and uneasy.

He shrugged again. “I might be.” But his tone of voice said that he didn’t think he was.

“This sucks.” I twisted my hands in my lap.

“It’s not perfect,” Jake said, then sat up. “But I’ve never had a chance like this before.”

“I know.” I hung my head. “I’m being a bitch not telling you to just go for it.”

“You’re not.” He grabbed my hands and kissed them. “I know you want to protect me. But my father isn’t going to change what we have. I know you probably even think I’m crazy, but what I feel for you is real. It isn’t going away, no matter what happens with my dad. I love you so much, Bre

“I love you, too, Jake. I love you no matter what.”

And, right there, I knew that if I was going to lose Jake, he was already gone. There was nothing I could do but let this all play out and trust that fate would bring the best. In the bright moonlight, with Saxon snoring lightly behind us, while I was wearing this red silk dress that had made Jake’s eyes widen with want, I pulled Jake’s mouth onto mine and tried to imprint the taste and smell and feel of him. Just in case fate really did the unfathomable and tore him away. I wanted a solid memory of Jake Kelly, myJake Kelly, uncorrupted, full of love for me, pining, wanting, just about to burst out of his shell, but not quite there. Yet.

  Acknowledgements:

  First and foremost, I want to thank my strong, smart, fierce mother. Her maniacal faith in my ability to do absolutely anything is sometimes overwhelming and always encouraging, especially when I start I get the urge to curl into fetal position and eat massive amounts of comfort pudding. I give her all the love and respect in the world.

And thanks to my baby sister, Katie, who never pulled a single punch in her young, mean life. Especially the day she ripped that “Do you want to be a writer?” leaflet from an Avon novel back when we were in high school, raised her perfect eyebrow, and stuffed the page in my hand with a single, fateful remark; “You could write a better book than this, so you should.”

I want to thank my brothers Jack and Zachary for supporting me even if they act like books will burn them if they hold them for too long. Thank you to my “baby” sisters Jessica, Jillian, and Jamie, who make me laugh and remind me of what it was like to grow up in NJ. Thanks to my dad, who constantly calls and updates me on any book/writing/publishing news he hears on NPR. I’d like to thank my grandparents for calling me and nagging me to get my work out there or just generally encouraging me so I could make some money and stop mooching off of them. But also, of course, because they love me and think I’m a decent writer. Thank you to all my family who have cheered me on and believed in me, no matter how obnoxiously lost in my own fictional world I’ve been. I want to thank those friends who inspired the friendships in this book and still warm my cockles (Ronan, Jessie, Kimmy, Liz, Jesse, Aaron, Ellen, Lou, Fran, Frank, Chloe, Elisa, Lauren, Biffy, Holly, Jen K…)

An unimaginably huge debt of thanks goes out to the long line of teachers who loved and nourished my voracious little reader-mind; Mr. Post, Mrs. Schroth, Mr. Fly

I could not have done this without my best friend and amazing editor, Alexa Offenhauer, who runs a fantastic editing business, Loose Leaf Editing. She untangled my crazy sentences, updated my 90’s era fashion nightmares, and rooted for the book with her entire, brilliant heart from day one. A huge thanks also goes out to the hugely talented YA authors Caryn Caldwell and Angie Stanton for being so sweet but firm as critiquers, and lovely and inspiring as writers, loooong email exchangers, and friends. We need one on one drinks together pronto, ladies! Tamar Goetke for reluctantly embracing her i

I want to thank the friends I’ve met or co

Last, but never least, thank you to my girl, Amelia, who I hope grows up crazier and more amazing than any girl I could imagine in any book…but not too fast. And a big, wet, sloppy thank you to my husband, Frank, my love, my best friend, and the coolest guy I’ve ever known. His awesomeness has inspired some great fictional romance.

And a huge thank you to my readers! I love hearing from you! I love knowing you have songs that go along with my books and that you’ve already cast the Bre