My Junior Year
of Loathing
by Jennifer DiGiovanni
Junior year is
supposed to be tough. Exams, term papers, homework, college tours, and
participation in extra-curricular activities can all add up to non-stop stress.
But Melinda Banner has goals to achieve and dreams to make real. This year,
she’ll be unstoppable. But even over achievers need a break.
While walking in the woods to take a break from the stress of it all, Melinda
meets a boy named Connor. After a few more run-ins, the two settle into an
uneasy friendship, if you can even call it that.
But Connor's closed and mysterious. Whenever Melinda asks too many questions,
he suddenly has to go or is no longer interested in talking. When they’re
together, she’s torn between wanting him to open up and running away as fast as
she can. Still she can't seem to shake her budding interest in him.
Connor has his own way of looking at the world, and his views often conflict
with Melinda’s practical nature. Can you like someone and loathe them at the
same time? Is he even worth the emotional tug on her heartstrings or
distraction from all things Junior year?
And, as if she needs another project right now, Melinda starts to obsess over
the abandoned estate she passes on the way to school each day. Between Connor
and the old estate, Melinda's beginning to think she's taking on too much.
But Melinda's smart. She finds a way to indulge her interest in the estate and
fulfill her obligations. She will uncover the truth behind the aging edifice
for an epic article in the school newspaper.
But when her investigation reveals a connection between Connor and a tragedy
long-since forgotten, Melinda has a choice: put off her junior year
achievements to save a local landmark and a boy who constantly pushes her away
or put them both out of her mind for good and focus on making the grade.
Author Bio
Jennifer DiGiovanni is the author of the School
Dayz Series. When she’s not writing or reading, she likes to try new sports and
activities from archery to ballroom dancing, with varying degrees of success.
My eyes land on the monstrous wall
running the length of the block ahead of us. What was once red brick has now
faded to ashy gray and tan, adorned with splotches of green lichen. To me, the
Westerly Estate has always looked completely out of place in Harmony, like
someone froze time and plunked a long-forgotten fairy tale castle in the center
of mid-town Manhattan.
Becca’s renegade curls swat the side of
my forehead when she turns away from Will. “I’m sure you’ve heard the story
behind the Westerly wall.”
“Something about Old Man Westerly
building it because he hated his daughter’s boyfriend?” The memory is fuzzy,
but I recall my father telling me about the local legend when I was younger.
Will laughs. “Dude must have been a fun
parent.”
Becca nods. Finally, they agree on
something. “Judging by the state of the wall, the estate behind it must be a
total wasteland. I wonder why the mayor doesn’t force whoever owns it now to
fix it up.”
I straighten my spine, searching for
tall stone turrets, perhaps the tower of London, or at least a mansion like
Brian’s. Only the top floor of a tired-looking manor house with faded clapboard
siding and a shingled roof pokes over the top of the brick barrier. In the
distance, I spot a redwood barn and two corroded metal silos.
“Old man Westerly built the wall a long
time ago—maybe the seventies,” Becca says. “According to the story my gran told
me, he completely despised his daughter’s boyfriend.”
“Yeah, and I bet the wall was his bright
idea to separate them,” Will cuts in.
“All that to keep out one guy?” I ask.
“He was probably her one true love.”
Becca enhances the mood by fluttering her eyelashes faster than a crazed
hummingbird’s wings. “Then, right after the wall was finished, the Westerly
family moved away and sold the land. Apparently, there was some sort of
accident.”
“So the place is cursed,” Will says.
“Supposedly haunted,” Becca adds.
Will huffs. “No one believes the ghost
stuff. But whoever bought it made a bad investment. Must be a toxic-waste dump
or something if you can’t build on it.”
The light switches to green. Will
punches the gas, and Becca slams into me, her shoulder knocking mine.
“You’re out of control, Gamen,” Becca
gripes. “Sorry, Mel.”
Two cars roll through the intersection
before the light shines yellow and then red. Will swears under his breath.
“First-day-of-school traffic. Everybody wants to show off their new wheels.”
“Do you really think there’s a ghost?” I
turn to Becca.
“Of course there’s a ghost,” she says.
“People see her all the time.”
“Like who?” Will asks, arching an
eyebrow.
She shrugs. “Just people.”
“Name one person. Have you seen her?”
“No, Will,” she answers with a sigh.
“But everyone knows about her, so the story must be true. She’s waiting for her
true love to come back and rescue her.”
Will barks out a laugh. “True love.
Right. More like a sex fiend.”
“Awesome. We’re talking about ghost sex
now,” Becca says.
“I wonder what the real story is,” I
say. “The truth could make a great headline for the paper. If I find out what
really happened to the estate, maybe someone would clean the place up. I’m sure
it was beautiful, back in the good old days.”
“Don’t you have enough to worry about
this year?” Becca asks. “You can’t spend time researching a story like that.
You’re assistant editor of Out of Tune.
You’re on student council. You play basketball and run a whole bunch of other
clubs. Our school would not exist without you.”
“You’re exaggerating.” My face flames.
Thanks for spotlighting My Junior Year of Loathing!
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