All In

Heather White Driscoll

Description

This novel follows Harper Whitmore during her sophomore year of high school as she experiences a roller coaster of emotions in her quest for love and happiness.

No longer an unassuming freshman, Harper Whitmore begins her sophomore year of high school as the well-known girlfriend of former varsity basketball star Scott Pierce. While the gossip and rumors from the previous year have continued, Harper finds herself much better equipped to handle them. The confidence and conceitedness that Scott so effortlessly displayed seem to rub off on Harper, but has his selfishness also?
With Scott now a freshman in college, Harper finds herself much more alone as she faces the challenges of high school life. Forces both within and outside her control are acting in ways that could have life-changing implications, and how she chooses to face them will either push Harper and Scott closer together or drive them irrevocably apart.
A story about love, life, tragedy, and forgiveness, All In takes the reader on a roller coaster ride of emotions. Following along with Harper on her journey is both exhilarating and infuriating, but it is a journey worth taking; her quest for love and happiness is universal, but it can feel all too personal.

Sujets

• Pasión (película de 1982)
• Sweethearts
• Amants
• Happiness
• Passion
• Romance
• Drama
• Novel
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 27 mars 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665733052
• Langue: English

Extrait

He Calls Me Harp Series
 
 
 
ALL IN
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
HEATHER WHITE DRISCOLL
 
 

 
Copyright © 2023 Heather White Driscoll.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
 
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3306-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3304-5 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-3305-2 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022920813
 
Archway Publishing rev. date: 3/23/2023
CONTENTS
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
For My Sisters. “You’re thick as thieves.”
ONE
I imagine that if Barrett had actually come into my life that day in the cafeteria my freshman year, Scott would still have tried to make his move for me. That’s how Scott works—he doesn’t lose because he doesn’t have to play. His entire existence is based on confidence in everything he does. Barrett lacked confidence. He started his sophomore year of high school by rolling up in a late-model Toyota 4Runner wearing his letterman jacket. The SUV was not quite a Pathfinder, but damn near close. Barrett apparently thought he was the new Scott. He got to school early that morning to secure Scott’s old parking spot. Scott may have been gone, but Barrett’s insecurities about their old rivalry lingered.
I began tenth grade as securely as possible, knowing Scott and I would still exist comfortably. I accepted this was a transition period for us. Not seeing each other daily was a shift in our routine, which we would need to acclimate to. Every night at seven, he called, and I promised both myself and him I’d keep it together and make the transition possible. Scott pledged to do the same to ensure the next three years didn’t drag on.
I started my sophomore year by being driven to school by my mother. She, too, had to adjust to the transition. Julie Whitmore had gotten used to Scott picking her two daughters up and driving them to school daily. Now that Scott had gone to college on the mainland, my mother pushed for me to get my driver’s license as soon as I turned sixteen. Until then, my mother was forced to drive her daughters to and from school for nearly two months.
This year, I was met at the flagpole by someone I had never expected. I hopped out of my mom’s Lexus and headed toward the main building. One Mr. Barrett Hudson quickly stopped me. His façade of courage and dominance didn’t fool me, though. His noticeable transportation change wasn’t the only thing that brought Scott to mind. His attire and his look also reminded me of my boyfriend. He kept his hair short and tight, though it was still dark black. His overall look was casual.
“Harper!”
I was shocked by his sudden approach. He sauntered, almost strolling, his hands in the pockets of his slightly baggy jeans, wearing a casually unbuttoned cotton shirt underneath a bulky letterman jacket detailing his basketball accomplishments. I didn’t answer him; I simply looked at him. That’s how Barrett worked—he needed people and had no other way to approach them.
“Harper, what class do you have first period?”
“English,” I stated. “Why?”
“I just wanted to know if we’d see each other this year.”
The conversation lulled; I didn’t have anything to contribute.
“You look really tan,” he continued.
I turned and walked away, quickly nodding at Leigh, strolling toward me from across the courtyard. With this casual attire and blatant attempt at working his way into my life, I knew he was trying his hand at being Scott Pierce. I wasn’t biting. I wasn’t interested in seeing a poorly executed Scott impression.
“Harper!”
I simply waved as Barrett yelled my name across the central courtyard of my high school. I was about to enter the main building when someone firmly grabbed my bicep. Barrett’s quick tug forced me to turn and face him. I stared at his hand on my arm, waiting for him to remove it. His hand wrapped nearly entirely around my bicep, and his fingers encased my arm.
“Harper!” He quickly removed his hand as he got a glimpse of my glare. “I want to know if we can be friends this year.”
“You don’t want to be my friend . You want to be more, and I don’t want that. I remembered everything you said last year. You reminded me nearly every day that Scott wouldn’t be here this year. Do you remember that?” I asked calmly. “You told me daily that Scott would need to be replaced!”
“I remember that, Harper. I also remember making a deal with Pierce to play nice this year. That’s what I am doing—playing nice.”
“That’s right! You had to make an agreement with him.”
“Harper, I would have backed off regardless.”
“Scott is still my boyfriend. He lives in Seattle now, but we are still very much together. I can’t be anything more than just someone you know. I don’t want to be anything more, either. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” he said. “I’d like to start fresh, though.”
“What is fresh ?” I asked. “You want me to pretend last year didn’t happen?”
“No,” he whined. “I’d like to try to be more than just someone you know. I want to be friends.”
“It’s too late for that,” I reminded him. “Way too late!”
“Well,” he stuttered, “what is your class load?”
“Really?” My sarcasm was coming through as straightforward as I’d hoped it would. “Did you not hear what I just said?”
“Please?” he pleaded. “I’m trying.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “I have English first period, followed by World History, Biology, Geometry, PE, and French. Is that what you wanted to know?”
“We have third period, fourth….” Barrett examined his class schedule. “And French together. I look forward to being your lab partner in Biology. Maybe I could even be your French partner?”
“We’ll see.” I quickly entered the main building, where Leigh awaited me at the entrance. She had an equally skeptical look on her face.
“Harper?” Leigh asked while walking together into our tenth-grade English class. “I thought about it last night after our phone call; nothing is exciting about tenth grade. This time last year, we were excited to be out of middle school and finally be high school girls. Not to mention, we had a fantastic freshman year.”
“We really did!” I exclaimed as we turned into our classroom. “Not once in middle school did I ever think we’d have the freshman year we had!”
“But what do we have to look forward to as sophomores beyond getting our license?” Leigh’s usual optimistic demeanor was missing. “I’ll see Brad on Friday nights. But otherwise, this year is going to drag.”
I sulked as we took our seats, “I can’t have that negative energy this year. Especially since I’m trying to adjust to only seeing Scott on the weekends.”
“At least you have Scott using the word boyfriend.” Leigh frowned. “I may have Brad posing as a boyfriend, but he won’t use the word.”
“Speaking of imposters, tell me point blank, what is going on with Barrett?” I asked across the aisle before English. We had five minutes before class started, and I didn’t want to be the only tenth grader who noticed Barrett’s recent change to emulate Scott.
“I don’t think there is any change.” Leigh looked perplexed at my question. “Why?”
“Leigh! Are you kidding me? He is driving around in a Toyota 4Runner, dressing the same way Scott dresses, and is trying to convince me to be his best friend. It’s weird. He even keeps his hair short in the back and slightly messy. He’s weird.”
“Maybe you’re just going through Scott withdrawal and seeing him everywhere. It’ll pass. I remember when we talked about this in health class last year. Coming down from addiction, the addict finds herself seeing the addiction everywhere.”
“Stop it! I am not addicted.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s driving a very similar car to Scott, dressing like him, and wearing his hair the same, and he’s making a point to talk to me. Barrett’s up to something.” I stared Leigh down. “Oh, and he complimented me on my tan. That is such a Scott thing to do!”
“Barrett is wearing a letterman’s jacket… Scott never wore one of those.”
“Scott would never wear one.” My eyes widened, “He said he would never want to wear something so obvious.”
“It is adorable how smug he is.” Leigh laughed. “But your tan is spectacular.”
“Seriously?” I grinned. “Scott and I spent every day in eastern Washington sleeping in the sun—literally the entire day! We’d wake up, be in the sun by around ten-thirty, and lie until six. It was heaven! Absolute heaven! Some nights we’d walk into town and have a crappy meal at a crappy restaurant. We’d laugh for hours as Scott ordered pitchers of cheap beer witho