Playing drums in a band and living with her best friends are just some of the highlights of Nova's life. But the best new development? Talking to Quinton on the phone each night. She wishes she could be with him, but she knows he needs time to heal. Yet, shocking news is on the way, and Nova will need Quinton like he once needed her. Is he strong enough to leap out of his broken past...and into Nova's heart?
For everyone who suffered loss and learned how to live again. Know that you're not alone."
Quinton is out of rehab and learning how to piece himself together before he jumps back into how things used to be. That means to stay away from Nova. Nova is back living her life, going to school, band practices but thing start to get a little complicated with Tristan, her roommate starts to flirt with her. Not only that Delilah is missing stressing Nova. She can't help everyone and things start to take a toll, she needs to see and be with Quinton but he needs to fix himself before they can see each other again.
I loved this book it was toned down from the other book with the stresses and bad experiences. it was interesting seeing her and his life where it wasn't too crazy. I enjoyed seeing them find more about themselves, learning how live their life page guilt and grief without the use of drugs. I loved getting to see the healing and love that was going on with Quinton and Nova. Overall I loved this book and Can't wait to see Tristan's story in the next book.
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Prologue
Nova
December
28, the day of the funeral
It’s a strange feeling, getting ready to watch someone get put
under the ground into their final resting place. I’ve been to
enough funerals to know that my senses always become hyper-aware of
everything going on around me: the touch of the wind seems stronger,
the sun a little more blinding, the smell of the leaves, grass, and
fresh dirt overpowering. It’s like my mind is reaching out and
trying to grasp each aspect of the moment, when part of me wants
nothing more than to forget.
I’m
actually at the church earlier than I’m supposed to be and I don’t
even know why, other than that sitting home for a second longer just
didn’t seem possible. So I left the house without telling anyone
and got in my cherry-red Chevy Nova, the car my dad left to me when
he died, and drove it to the church where my dad’s and Landon’s
funeral took place. And in just a bit, I’ll say good-bye to another
person I once knew and will never see again.
Now
that I’m here, staring at the brick building with a white tower
pointing to the sky, I’m not sure what I should do. I’m three
hours early to a funeral, which might say a lot about me. A lot of
people would likely show up late, wanting to avoid death for as long
as possible, but I’ve become so familiar with it it’s unsettling.
After
sitting in the car for about ten minutes, watching snowflakes fall
from the sky and frost the grass and the windshield, I decide to take
video instead. I didn’t bring the fancy camera my mom gave me, but
the one on my phone works and honestly I use that one a lot more
because it’s handy for sporadic recording, which seems to be my
specialty.
I
blow out a deep breath as I sit back in the seat, aim the camera at
myself, and hit record. I have the screen flipped to me and my image
immediately pops up. I look tired. The bags under my eyes are pretty
obvious, even though I’ve tried to cover them up with makeup, and
my brown hair wasn’t being cooperative so I ended up pulling it up
into a ponytail. I’m wearing a black dress and earrings and the
contrast with my fair skin makes me look pallid.
“It’s
amazing how everything can seem so perfect one moment and then
suddenly it’s not. How quickly perfection can evaporate… how rare
it is.” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “I’ve seen a lot of
death. More than the normal person, probably. I watched my father’s
life vanish in front of me within minutes. Found my boyfriend’s
body right after he took his own life. Too early. Too suddenly. Both
of them. I never had time to prepare myself and I thought it was the
worst feeling in the world. I always wondered how different it would
be, if it ever happened again. If maybe the third or fourth time
around, I wouldn’t hurt so badly. If it’d be easier letting
someone go now that I’ve had so much practice.” I tuck a fallen
strand of my bangs behind my ear and swallow the lump in my throat.
“And maybe it has gotten easier… but it still hurts. I still shed
tears… it’s still agonizing… painful…” I trail off as a few
tears slip from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. “Even now, just
thinking about some of the stuff I saw… I should have stopped it…
should have done things differently…” I trail off, staring at the
window. “But I didn’t… and now they’re gone forever.”
Jessica Sorensen is a #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives with her husband and three kids in Idaho. When she's not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.
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