Boomerang Boyfriend goes up for pre-order August 21st. I’m super excited to share Delia’s story with you. Here’s an excerpt to tide you over until September 11th.

 

Jack

Friday after school, all I wanted to do was to take a nap and then go hang out at Trevor’s. I was about to doze off in my room when loud laughter drifted up from the kitchen below. I liked my room because it was bigger than Zoe’s, but being over the kitchen wasn’t always great. The sound came right through the heating vents. I’d never told anyone I could hear most of what people said if they were sitting at the kitchen table, because sometimes it came in handy. Right now, it meant I could hear Delia and Zoe talking about some stupid Christmas ornaments they were painting.

I put my pillow over my head, trying to muffle the sound. It worked, but the feeling that I might suffocate didn’t promote restful sleep. I flung the pillow to the floor and sat up. Why couldn’t Zoe go hang out at Delia’s house? Was that too much to ask?

Giving up on a nap, I headed downstairs.

“Someone looks crabby,” Delia commented as I walked into the kitchen.

“Someone was trying to take a nap until you guys started talking non-stop.” I poured myself a glass of milk and turned my back to them as I drank it.

“You should get some noise-canceling headphones,” Delia said.

“Or you guys could hang out at your house.” I put my empty glass in the sink. “I swear sometimes it’s like you live here. And now you’re at Betty’s, and we’re stuck together in art. In case you didn’t realize it, a little of your personality goes a long way.”

Delia sucked in a breath and looked at me with impossibly large brown eyes, and then she looked down at the ornament she was painting.

Damn it. “This is the part where you’re supposed to yell back at me and tell me I’m a jerk,” I reminded her.

Delia didn’t look up. She just drew swirling lines on the ornament. I might have heard her sniffle.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.

She glanced up at me. “That is a very good question. Right now my only response is, ‘Go to hell.’ I’ll get back to you about the rest of the answer when I figure it out.”

“See,” I said. “That’s how you’re supposed to act.” Walking out of the kitchen, I felt better about our relationship. I’d insulted her; she’d told me off. The balance of the universe had been restored.

On the drive to Trevor’s house, the image of Delia with those big brown eyes, looking like she was about to cry, chipped away at my good state of mind. I wasn’t the reason she was upset. Someone else had ticked her off, and I had been caught in the fallout. I had nothing to feel bad about. It probably had something to do with that Aiden guy she liked. It was Friday night. The guy probably hadn’t asked her out and she was ticked off. Before the night was over, she’d probably be making plans to blow up his car.

###

Trevor sat in a lawn chair by the bonfire out back. He had four hot dogs in a roaster he was holding over the fire. Fat dripped off the meat and sizzled in the flames, making my stomach growl.

“I call dibs on two of those.” I sat in a chair next to him.

“Sorry,” Trevor said. “Two are for me. Rocky has dibbs on one, and you can have the one that’s left.”

Rocky had his head on the arm of Trevor’s chair with his eyes locked on the hot dogs.

“I see what you mean.” I reached over and patted Rocky’s head. “I won’t try to steal your dinner.”

“Good thing,” Trevor said. “This is one vicious attack dog. He’ll take your arm off.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Only if you’re trying to pull food from his mouth.”

When the hot dogs were done, I ate one and then put four more on the roaster. Trevor cut Rocky’s hot dog in pieces and put it on a paper plate in the grass.

I watched as Rocky gobbled up the meat and then started chewing the plate. “The plate’s not food,” I told him.

“Rocky, give it.” Trevor held out his hand.

The dog hung his head and looked at Trevor with big sad eyes.

“You’re not in trouble, dude, but you can’t eat the plate.” Trevor pulled the plate from his mouth or what was left of it.

“Make sure you shut the door to your bedroom before you go to sleep tonight,” I said.

“Nah. He sleeps with me.” Trevor patted Rocky. “And we have a deal. He can throw up anywhere but my room. Right, boy?”

Rocky barked.

“If I got a dog, do you think he’d be as good as Rocky?”

“Nope. He’s one of a kind.” Trevor scratched the dog’s ears. “But you should get a dog. You’re dog people. Rocky says so.”

“Maybe now that my mom’s feeling better, I could get a dog.” Having someone who’d be happy to see me every time I came home would be nice.