Almost

ALMOST

By

Anne Eliot

www.anneeliot.com

ALMOST, Published by Butterfly Books, LLC - Copyright © Anne MacFarlane 2012, writing as Anne Eliot.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons living or dead, is a coincidence.

Original Cover Art— by Kika MacFarlane and Anne MacFarlane

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations within critical articles and reviews. For information contact Butterfly Books, LLC. Colorado Springs, CO. Contact info found at
www.butterflybooksllc.com
.

ISBN: 978-1-937815-00-4 (Amazon Kindle Version)

1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2

Butterfly Books, LLC. First Ed. 2012, Cataloging Information:

Eliot, Anne

Almost / Anne Eliot

Summary: Three years after an attempted rape, Jess wants to trick her parents into believing she's better, so she hires a fake boyfriend who helps her come to terms with the night that changed her forever.

1. Young Adult Romance—Juvenile fiction. 2. High schools—Fiction. 3. Rape—Fiction. 4. PTSD Post Traumatic Stress Disorder—Fiction.

Please visit Anne's website:
www.anneeliot.com
.

Dedication

For B:
You spent many years hiding behind your beautiful smile and trying to forget. We should have told. We should have talked about it more. I'm sorry. I wrote this for you.

--

For Ali:
You got away with broken ribs and everyone saying that you were “a very lucky girl” when you felt the opposite. Your strength and your reassurance that others might need this story inspired me to keep going. Thanks for teaching me what courage looks like. I published this and found some courage of my own, all because of you.

Cover Summary

At a freshman party she doesn't remember… Jess Jordan was almost raped.

Almost. Very nearly. Not quite.

Three years later, Jess has fooled everyone into believing she's better. Because she is.

Almost. Very nearly. Not quite.

But until Jess proves she's back to normal teen activities, her parents won't discuss college. So, she lands a summer internship and strikes a deal with hockey jock, Gray Porter: He gets $8,000. She gets a fake boyfriend, a social life and a friend to keep her secrets.

Jess has no idea Gray signed on for reasons other than money. She also never expects to fall in love. But Gray's amazingly hot, holds her hand all the time, and makes her forget that he's simply doing his job. It's almost like having a real boyfriend.

Almost. Very nearly. Not quite.

Gray Porter hides his own secrets. About Jess Jordan. About why he's driven to protect her, why he won't cash her checks, or deny her anything she asks.

...

“
Almost is a beautiful book about healing, redemption, and love. It gave me butterflies, made me laugh, and made me cry. A total must read.
” -- Cindi Madsen, YA Author, All The Broken Pieces, Entangled Publishing

Table of Contents

Title

Cover Summary

Copyright Info

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Resources

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Jess

The third Red Bull was a mistake. I should've munched some actual food before parking at the interview. But I didn't. Too nervous.

So now, my stomach is liquid snakes and spinning nails. My bad.

I raise the volume on my iPhone and pull one leg past the steering wheel so I can half-curl up next to the door. Not easy in the driver's seat of a Jeep. But very do-able if you're short. It's also surprisingly comfortable if you have the right blanket.

I have the right blanket. Brown, double plush and fleecy. It's a gift from my little sister.

She's the only one that knows how often I nap in here. Last February, she thought I'd freeze during my school lunch naps so she bought it for me with her babysitting money. She's always trying to help me catch up on my lost sleep.

Unfortunately, thanks to my breakfast of
stupid,
no one can help me today. I won't be catching up on any lost sleep either. Worse, I think I might puke in the parking lot of Geekstuff.com before the interview starts. Maybe during. Wouldn't that be epic?

Excuse me, Mr. CEO-Guy-I-Want-To-Impress. Could you hold that question while I BARF BARF BARF?

They'd probably assume I was hung over. Or a drug addict! Which…I suppose, I am. Everyone knows caffeine is a drug, after all. And I'm definitely addicted to it.

My stomach clenches and twists again so hard I want to cry. Instead, I close my eyes and breathe slowly, willing the energy drinks—more importantly that amazing caffeine—to stick. The cool glass against my forehead seems to help and the cramps fade away.

Thank you, God.

I snuggle deeper into the blanket and try to focus on my interview plan. The iPhone is playing classical. Classical works best when I want to visualize end results. Tactics.

Olympic athletes run their moves before they compete too.

I know landing the summer internship at Geekstuff.com is no Olympics. But to me, this interview is the most important competition of my life. Without this job, my future is doomed.

I see myself enter the same room where I beat thirty applicants yesterday.

The CEO asks to see my mock product samples.
He's impressed!
I imagine myself smiling and being all social. I mention that I own most of the ‘geek-toys’ department. How I can't wait to see the inner workings of an online store.

The social part is hardest. All bluff and faking it. But me, owning the products, is complete truth. I love every geek-gadget, toy and t-shirt they sell here—even the Star Wars stuff. There's no cooler company in the world.

I run through the sales history and the $34.00 price of my favorite product:
The Mood Jelly Fish Lamp
. I imagine saying:
I can't live without this awesome lamp.
Another truth. I love the lamp. It's my nightlight.

I'm smiling, accepting the internship—handshake and all—when something slams into my Jeep.

Hard.

Not with another car—but with a fist or a body!
I don't know what
—because my eyes were closed! The Jeep rocks. I whack my knees into the steering wheel while my head hits the window with a dull
thunk
. When I look up I'm almost nose-to nose with a guy. A guy who's peering into the windshield like he wanted to see my reaction to his lame prank!

I recognize him from my school: Gray Porter. Junior—soon to be Senior. Same as me.

And not one of my usual tormentors.

My carefully constructed interview-bun slips. Wisps of blond frizz fall around my shoulders.
Perfect.

Feeling overexposed like some caged circus act, I manage to paste on one of my defensive sneers. I shout so he can hear me. “What was that about—
jerk
?”

The guy doesn't move. He's just staring. It's all I can do not to blush like a dork. I haven't been this close to a guy—heck—anyone besides my family, in years. That's when I notice Gray Porter might own the most stunning, crystal-green eyes on the entire planet.

Holy wow…

It takes all my strength to hold the pissed-off expression in place and repeat myself: “I said, what was that about? JERK.”

I try to read his expression. I'm really good at that. He seems…alarmed. Or does he look …apologetic?

Weird. And double-WTF?

I take stock of myself. My heart's pounding jacked-up-stereo loud, but he can't hear it through the glass. I check my hands gripped on the steering wheel. Thankfully, they've got no signs of visible trembling.

After three years of practice, I'm a master at keeping all body shakes hidden. Even so, he's got me so rattled I have to work to decide my next move. Why is he still staring? I must need a more scathing expression on my face. I choose
fearless scorn
—one of my best. Took months to perfect this one. I sneer, and twist my lip.

Ba-Bam.

That got his attention, because he just turned all red. He's opened his mouth like he's going to say something.