Jerk Magnet (Life at Kingston High Book #1) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Melody Carlson

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106 pages

English

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When Chelsea Martin's future stepmother helps her transform from gawky and geeky into the hottest girl at her new school, Chelsea is pretty sure it's the best thing that ever happened to her. But her hot new look has a downside. She's attracting lots of guys who all have one thing in common: they're jerks. And stealing the attention of all the guys in school doesn't endear her to the girls either.Chelsea finally finds a true friend in Janelle Parker, and a non-jerk, Nicholas, catches her eye. Janelle keeps telling her to be herself, but Nicholas is the only guy around who doesn't give her a second look. Can Chelsea and Janelle come up with a plan to get his attention? Or will Chelsea's new image ruin everything?Teen favorite and bestselling author Melody Carlson helps girls uncover the real source of beauty in this true-to-life story of young love, friendship, and being yourself.

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Children's

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 janvier 2012
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441236012
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	8 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0173€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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© 2012 by Melody Carlson
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means for example, electronic, photocopy, recording without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-3601-2
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
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, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The internet addresses, email addresses, and phone numbers in this book are accurate at the time of publication. They are provided as a resource. Baker Publishing Group does not endorse them or vouch for their content or permanence.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
About the Author
Books by Melody Carlson
Back Ads
Back Cover
S ometimes the best way to handle rejection is to simply expect it. Just accept that antagonism is coming your way and get beyond it as quickly and quietly as possible. At least that was what Chelsea Martin had been telling herself since hitting adolescence. But with two more years of high school lurking ahead, her resolve, not to mention her patience, had worn thin. And she wondered . . . just how old did her peers have to become before they eventually grew up? Forty-eight, perhaps? Maybe by their thirtieth class reunion they would treat people humanely and with an iota of respect.
Consequently, no one at her school was happier to see June arrive and the school year end than Chelsea. With almost three blessed months before she’d be forced to reenter that adolescent torture chamber, she planned to spend the summer underground, geeking out on her phony Facebook page, reading sci-fi and fantasy, and catching up on her favorite reality shows. Not exactly high aspirations, but after an academically packed year as well as keeping her GPA high enough to remain in the top ten of her class, she concurred with the old McDonald’s slogan she did deserve a break today. But then, after just one week of sleeping in and vegging out, her “vacation” was cut short.
The madness began on Saturday morning. Awakened from a deep sleep and a delicious dream (Rob Pattinson was vying for her affection), Chelsea was in no mood to “rise and shine!” But there was Dad, standing over her wearing a silly apron that said “Kiss the Cook” and a grin that spelled nothing but trouble. Plus he had a pancake turner in his hand.
“Go away,” she said, longing to escape back into her dream. Although it was probably too late since Rob (aka Edward Cullen) had already vanished into the misty twilit forest.
“Up and at ’em,” Dad hailed in a painfully cheery tone.
“Is the house on fire or what?” Chelsea demanded.
“No, I just want you to get up. Come on, Chels. I’m fixing your favorite blueberry pancakes!”
“I don’t want any pancakes.” She groaned and rolled over. It wasn’t even nine o’clock. And since when were blueberry pancakes her favorite? Did he think she was still seven? All she wanted at the moment was to return to her dream and that dreamy Edward.
“Come on, Chels.” Dad changed his tone from cheerful to pitiful. “We haven’t really talked all week. I miss you, sweetie.”
She sat up and sighed. That was actually true they hadn’t talked much lately, maybe not even for two weeks. But that was Dad’s fault, not hers. All Dad did was work, work, work.
“Come on,” he urged her. “I already heated the griddle. And the coffee’s brewing and ”
“Okay, okay.” She reluctantly crawled out of bed, shoved her feet into her pink bunny slippers, and shuffled her way toward the kitchen. Sure enough, Dad really was making pancakes, complete with fresh blueberries.
“What’s the special occasion?” she asked as she filled a mug with coffee and sat down at the breakfast bar, gazing blurrily at him.
“Just us.” He grinned broadly, and she was surprised to see his dimples make an appearance. She’d almost forgotten he had them. The dimples combined with his messy bed-head hair, plaid flannel pajama pants, and faded blue T-shirt were surprisingly endearing almost enough to wipe out her suspicions that something was seriously wrong. But not quite.
“Uh-huh . . . just us. Right.” She tried to suppress her skepticism as she spooned sugar into her coffee.
“You know, father and daughter hanging out and eating blueberry pancakes together.” Another spoonful of batter sizzled onto the hot griddle, releasing a delicious crispy smell and almost making her hungry.
She still wasn’t awake enough to put her finger on it, but something was definitely not jiving here. Why was Dad acting so weird? Did he think he was running for Father of the Year, or something worse? She glanced around the kitchen, wondering if there might be a hidden camera somewhere. Maybe he was auditioning for a father-daughter reality show.
“Okay,” she said carefully, “what’s really up with you, Dad?”
Both his boyish grin and his dimples faded. “We need to talk.”
She took in a quick breath. “If I was your girlfriend, those four little words would have me seriously freaking.” She was trying to be funny, but the truth was she did feel worried. What had she done to warrant a “talk”? She couldn’t remember any particular offense. It was pretty hard to break the rules when you didn’t even have a life to start with.
She dipped her spoon in the sugar bowl again. It wasn’t that she didn’t like coffee, she just liked it sweetened up a lot.
Dad dumped another circle of batter, using the bottom of the ladle to enlarge it. “Well, as a matter of fact, this is about my girlfriend.”
“Huh?” Chelsea’s hand stopped in midair. With her third spoonful of sugar halfway between the sugar bowl and her coffee mug, she gaped at her dad. She could tell by his creased brow that he was feeling very uncomfortable about something, like he was about to disclose some bad news, something he knew Chelsea would not want to hear. It reminded her of that time more than five years ago when he’d told her the worst news imaginable. But nothing could possibly be that terrible.
“Your girlfriend?” she asked. “What girlfriend would that be?”
“Kate, of course.”
“Kate?” Chelsea tried to wrap her head around this. She barely knew Kate. In some ways she seemed almost like an imaginary person to Chelsea. Like someone she’d seen on a TV show or passed on the street. Kate was beautiful, stylish, perfect . . . and a perfect stranger to Chelsea. Dad was calling this Kate his girlfriend now?
“Yes . . . Kate.” He flipped his pancakes, acting preoccupied and focused, like he hadn’t just said something totally out of left field. Like he didn’t get that Chelsea still considered her mom the only woman in his life. Like he didn’t know how creepy it sounded to hear him use the word girlfriend when he was referring to himself. What was wrong with the man? Didn’t he know that dads don’t have girlfriends? Not her dad anyway.
Chelsea had been eleven when her mom suffered an aneurism and died almost instantly. Mom’s death had blindsided and devastated Chelsea and her dad. Even five years later, it was still hard for her to think about it. And up until recently, Chelsea’s dad had shown absolutely no interest in dating anyone. That was okay with Chelsea. So far the two of them had managed just fine on their own. Housekeeping was a bit random and haphazard, but there’d been no real complaints. Chelsea was used to doing her part.
Then Kate Bradley came along . . . and Dad had cautiously reentered the dating world. He’d reassured Chelsea it was “nothing serious,” and she had believed him. In fact, it had been somewhat amusing seeing her dad worried about how to act and what to say on a date. In some ways Chelsea thought the experience was probably good for him. She’d even been a little envious, wishing she had someone to date too like that would ever happen. But during this relatively short amount of time, Chelsea had never once heard Dad call Kate his girlfriend. That word alone was totally unnerving. Still, she planned to play it cool. Perhaps like other aggravations in life, this too would pass.
“So . . . tell me, Dad, what’s up with Kate?” She took a sip of her sweetened coffee, trying to act perfectly normal.
“Well, honey, I’ve been meaning to tell you that it’s been getting more serious.”
Chelsea frowned. She didn’t even know it was serious, and now it was more serious? “You guys only go out once a week at the most. You’ve probably had a total of six dates and ”
“Oh, it’s been a lot more than six dates, Chels. We meet for lunch occasionally, and we go for ”
“But how is a couple months long enough to get serious , Dad?” It was bizarre, but for some reason she felt like the parent now. Like she needed to advise him about the dangers of dating and getting serious.
“Sometimes you just know about these things.” He neatly flipped a pancake.
“Know what about what things?” She knew her tone was too sharp. She could tell by his expression that she sounded rude and angry. Okay, maybe she was angry.
“You know when it’s right . . . when you’ve met the right one.”
“The right what ?”
“The right, uh . . . soul mate.”
She blinked. “Kate is your soul mate?”
He set the pancakes on a plate and handed it to her. “She is, Chelsea.” He nodded in an assured way. “I know it.”
“But how can you possibly know that?”
“Because I just do.” He poured new circles of batter onto the hot griddle. “To be honest, I think I’ve known it almost from the start.”
“Are you saying that you’ve been in love with Kate since you met her?” She glared at him.