Forbidden Boy Abbott, Hailey (books to read in your 30s txt) 📖

still twisting her hair. “J, c’mon. You need a distraction from the stress with Dad and the house. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer. You’re going to give me an ulcer.”

Julianne threw up her hands in mock indignation, hoping that Chloe would catch the gesture even on the darkened beach. “Me? I’m going to give you an ulcer?”

she mock-whined. “You just took, like, ninety-seven classes; you’re working at the children’s hospital this summer; you do the expert sudoku for fun; and you just scheduled a bikini wax for Wednesday”—Julianne took an exaggerated breath before finishing her rant—“and I’m the thing that’s eating away at your stomach lining?”

“Okay, let me rephrase. My ulcer aside, we both know that things have been a little high-intensity on the home front recently.” Chloe glanced at her sister for confirmation. “And you know what’s a great stress-reliever? Making out.”

“So have you already picked someone out to relieve my stress, or do I draw straws when we get there?”

Julianne asked grudgingly.

Chloe clapped her hands and reached out to put an arm around her younger sister. “Oh, Jules, he’s totally hot. And super smart. You’re going to love him.”

In the distance, Julianne could hear the thumping bass line of a Common song. She could smell the bonfire smoke and hear the waves chasing the shoreline.

Chloe did have a point. Was there anything better than a start-of-summer beach party? She laughed as she let her sister drag her down the beach, over the dunes, and toward the party.

As soon as Chloe and Julianne hit the mass of people weaving around the bonfire, a group of shouting and laughing girls bum-rushed Chloe and pulled her off in pursuit of a keg. Alone in the hive of UCLA Greeks, Santa Monica rugby guys who’d somehow caught a ride over, and assorted skaters, surfers, friends from school, and townies, Julianne felt like she was floating in the middle of a cyclone of activity. She looked out over the firelit field of sun-streaked blond heads and laughed. It was a complete Palisades mélange. To her right, Julianne saw her co-editor of the Cliffview—the Palisades High art magazine—snuggled into the lap of the adorable college guy who waited tables over at the Fishtail. On the other side of the bonfire, she could just make out her third-grade science partner (who was now earning a reputation as a pretty decent longboarder). Enthusiastic girls in tiny cutoff sweats and bikini tops were tossing a Frisbee with a group of cute boys in lifeguard sweatshirts, their Billabong surf shorts hanging easily off of their hips.

Julianne bopped her head to the beat as the music tran-sitioned into last summer’s Rihanna song. Humming

“Umbrella, ella … ella …” to herself, she continued her inaugural party lap.

“Jules!” A chorus of male voices bellowed her name from a distance and, squinting, Julianne could just make out Mitch and Hunter, two of her cross-country teammates, and a few of their friends, up ahead.

“Hey there!” She sidled up to her teammates, arms thrown wide open to receive their bear hugs. “How’s summer treating you so far?”

The guys shrugged their muscular shoulders before answering. “Oh, you know. Some surfing, some running, just trying to chill a little before work starts,” Mitch replied in his laid-back surfer drawl.

Hunter nodded in agreement, his sandy curls bobbing. “And you, J-money? Big summer plans? Are you still working with Bill?”

Julianne nodded. “Yes, indeedy.”

“Rock on. Me too.” Mitch smiled, his huge dimples on display. “And Hunt might be popping by for a few jobs. The pay is sweet.”

Julianne grinned, delighted that she’d be spending a summer in the sun with some of her favorite boys.

“Awesome. It’s a cool project, too. I think we’re going to have a blast. In, you know, that manual-labor type of way.”

“Works for me!” the guys chimed at the same time.

“Hey,” Hunter started hopefully. “Jules, have you heard from Kat lately?”

Kat Tse, Julianne’s best friend, had briefly dated Hunter over the spring and they were still friends.

“Nope, not in a few days,” Julianne replied, shaking her head. “I think she’s still settling into her dorm in Madrid. Her Spanish classes don’t start until next week.”

“Cool. When you talk to her, tell her I said hey,”

Hunter said easily. Julianne admired his comfort level with Kat. Although she was still friendly with most of her exes, she definitely didn’t count them among her nearest and dearest.

“Will do.” Julianne grinned and nodded.

“We should head out,” Mitch said. “I’ve got to be up early tomorrow. Fishing with my dad. And these losers”—he gestured to the other guys—“all need rides home.”

“Have a good night,” Julianne said, doling out a parting round of hugs. “See you at work.”

“Totally.” Hunter grinned. As the guys headed away down the beach, he turned around and called over his shoulder, “Oh, Jules, Lucy is looking for you. She has your negatives or something. You left them at the Mean Bean.”

“Awesome. Thanks. Later, guys.” Julianne waved at her friends, filled her lungs with delicious salty air, and headed off in search of her favorite self-proclaimed

“coffee-shop wench.”

After fifteen minutes of searching for Lucy and the envelope of negatives she’d left at the Mean Bean the day before, Julianne was still empty-handed. She had, however, taken a few mini-breaks to admire the surfers peeling off their T-shirts to go night-swimming, and to say hello to a few more friends from school. She was having a fabulous time, but she was just plain thirsty.

“’Scuse me.” Julianne edged past a blond couple dancing so close they could have been sharing a kidney, en route to the first cooler she could find. Scooting past hordes of tanned bodies bumping up against each other, she unconsciously tugged down the hem of her soft gray T-shirt. Julianne smiled, looking down at the fabric. She had forgotten how smeared and spotted with black ink it was. All of the stains were like birthmarks, giving the shirt uniqueness and character. She loved this shirt, even though Chloe rolled her eyes and pouted whenever she