Louder Than Words
Release Date: 09/16/14
Disappointment has been on speed dial in Ellen Grayson's life lately. Her
dad died, her mom numbs the grief with drugs and alcohol, and her so-called
friends have slowly abandoned her.
Trusting a popular teacher with her troubles should have been safe and
should NOT have led to an unwelcome seduction attempt that made her desperate
to escape the final moments of Junior year. Lesson learned. Best to keep all
the sordid details to herself and trust no one.
Enter Rex Jacobi, a cocky boy, recently transplanted from New York City
and fellow summer camp employee. Though his quick wit and confidence draws her
in, she can't let him get too close. And summer is just long enough and hot
enough to keep a boy like that at arm's length.
But by the time Rex's charm wears down her resistance, it's too late.
He's put Ellen on the "just friends" shelf and has shifted his
romantic attentions to the impossibly annoying and perky anti-Ellen. Even
worse, the teacher who tried to get her to sleep with him is still at it,
preying on other girls while Ellen struggles to come to terms with what
happened.
With her ability to trust as shaky as a chastity vow on prom night, Ellen must decide if she has enough remaining courage to speak up about the well-liked teacher and risk retribution, tell Rex how she really feels about him and risk heartbreak, or hold all her secrets inside. After all, it's the only safe place she knows when the only thing louder than words is the fear of being rejected.
With her ability to trust as shaky as a chastity vow on prom night, Ellen must decide if she has enough remaining courage to speak up about the well-liked teacher and risk retribution, tell Rex how she really feels about him and risk heartbreak, or hold all her secrets inside. After all, it's the only safe place she knows when the only thing louder than words is the fear of being rejected.
I finish chewing
and begin to sputter something about how she’s imagining it when a white
curtain of liquid cascades down the front of my face. Shocked, I jump up from
my seat. “What the … ”
Two of the girls
from the Easy Chair club stand next to me, one with an upended milk carton in
her hand. They’re laughing and everyone at the nearby tables is watching and
snickering as I snatch up a handful of napkins to wipe my face.
“No use crying
over spilt milk,” the one who poured the milk says.
Her friend says,
“That’s for Mr. Hamer, you lying bitch.”
“What’d you do
that for? Are you crazy?” Leanne bolts around to my side of the table. “You
have no idea what’s going on!”
“I know a liar
when I see one,” Milk-Pourer’s friend says.
“And a drug
addict,” Milk Girl tacks on. “Maybe she thought she’d blackmail Mr. Hamer into
letting her use his lab to cook up some meth.”
Milk Girl never
sees the hands that shove her to the ground. In the background, someone is
screaming. I’m too busy waterboarding Milk Girl with my own dairy beverage to
care.
Milk Girl wails
beneath the stream of liquid, thrashing her legs but seeing as how I’m sitting
on her body with her arms pinned between my thighs and her sides she’s not
going anywhere until I let her up.
Or someone pulls
me off.
Milk Girl’s
rescuer sets me on my feet but retains an iron lock on my arms.
Mr. Delvecchio
lowers his face to mine. “Ellen!”
I peer around
him, my pulse pounding through my veins, and watch as another teacher helps
Milk Girl to her feet.
“These two
started it,” Leanne says to Delvecchio in my defense.
“The four of
you, to the office! Now! The rest of you, return to your tables!” Delvecchio’s
bark sends the crowd scurrying, all but one that is. Rex has arrived and stands
nearby watching me, his brows puckered, his mouth open.
“What’s going
on?” he asks.
I’m too
mortified and agitated to answer him. Delvecchio nudges me forward. I need no
further encouragement to walk on, away from Rex, out of the cafeteria, away
from all the dog-piling students who smell blood.
Iris St. Clair is the pen name for a long-suffering cubicle worker by day, a Walter Mitty-like dreamer by night. (Her alter ego Tatiana Ivanadance also choreographs gravity-defying routines in those fantasies, but that's another bio.)
No matter what genre she writes, she prefers witty, insecure heroines and kind, persistent heroes able to break through to the gooey heart inside.
In high school she was voted most likely to win at Monopoly and Clue, but least likely to throw a ball anywhere near a target. Thank goodness writing requires less hand-eye coordination, punctuation errors notwithstanding.
Iris believes in the two-year "fish or cut bait" dating rule and has a 20+ year marriage and two teenaged sons as proof of concept. She lives, writes, dreams and dances in the rainy Portland, OR area.
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