KISSING KATE LAUREN MYRACLE PDF

I especially thank my dear friend Laura Pritchett, who talks to me about writing and children, children and writing. Her example gives me strength. I am grateful to my family for their steady and loving support: my mother, Ruth White, for never suggesting I choose a more practical career; my fathers, Tim White and Don Myracle, for, respectively, helping me navigate the streets of Atlanta and encouraging an early love of books; and my sister, Susan White, for inspiring me, advising me, and making me laugh. A thousand thanks to my editor, Susan Van Metre, who is amazing beyond words. Thanks, too, to her assistants, Susan Finch and Caroline Beltz.

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I especially thank my dear friend Laura Pritchett, who talks to me about writing and children, children and writing. Her example gives me strength. I am grateful to my family for their steady and loving support: my mother, Ruth White, for never suggesting I choose a more practical career; my fathers, Tim White and Don Myracle, for, respectively, helping me navigate the streets of Atlanta and encouraging an early love of books; and my sister, Susan White, for inspiring me, advising me, and making me laugh.

A thousand thanks to my editor, Susan Van Metre, who is amazing beyond words. Thanks, too, to her assistants, Susan Finch and Caroline Beltz. And finally I thank my husband, Jack Martin, who makes it all possible. And then my head grew light, because how could I even think such a thing? I take it back, I prayed. I squeezed my eyes shut and wished I could take it all back, everything that had happened, so that Kate and I could return to being friends like we used to be.

I felt wrong inside without her, weepy and miserable and pathetic. Always her name first, not that I cared. Although really, it was our seventh-grade gym teacher who did the choosing. It was Mrs. I remembered everything about that day, even its lousy start. We both did. For him to mention it at all was astounding. That we all have. His worried eyes said as much when I dropped my books and fled back up to my room. But he was right about how long it had been, and my first class was P.

But the thought of the girls in the locker room smirking as I pulled off my shirt was a million times worse. I washed my bra in the sink, then blew it dry with my hair dryer. By the time Jerry dropped me off at school, it was , and I had to go to the office for a late pass. I grabbed the pass and ran to the gym. Klause had already unrolled the cushiony, blue floor mat. The other girls sat in a circle at her feet, and their heads swiveled my way as I darted across the floor.

Klause gave me a disapproving stare, then continued with her instructions. Her gym shorts bunched around her bottom, making some of the girls snicker. She lowered her legs and stood up. Any questions? I hated it when she made us work with partners. I was neither cute nor outgoing, and most of the girls groaned when they were paired with me. Klause and ask to be switched.

Kate was small and blond and pretty, and she had a laugh like an open present. Compared to me, she was a goddess. Plus, she was a gymnast. Klause clapped her hands. Get to work! A pair of sneakers entered my line of vision, and I lifted my head to see Kate gazing down at me. She shrugged. But she was looking at me with her wide blue eyes, and if she was being mean, she was doing a great job of hiding it. I got on my knees and put my head on the mat, but when I tried to lift my lower body, I tipped forward and rolled onto my back.

Kate smiled. Kate covered her mouth with her hand. She put her head on the mat and pushed herself up, extending her legs and pointing her toes in the air. She stayed like that for a couple of seconds before bending her knees and rolling forward in a somersault. Put your hands on the floor, okay? You want them to point more to the middle, like this. I thought of the way her spine straightened as she did her headstand, and I wondered how it felt to be so lovely.

My cut had almost stopped bleeding, and I made myself go to the bathroom for a Band-Aid. I washed my hand, then tore off a piece of toilet paper and pressed it against my finger. A small red dot soaked through, and my tears welled up all over again. Such a dumb thing, a cut on my finger, and yet here I was sniveling like there was no tomorrow.

Kate would never fall apart like this. How could she not be? At school she roamed the halls with the cheerleaders and the members of the pep squad, and during lunch she ate with the most popular kids.

I was sitting on the curb near the faculty parking lot, waiting for Jerry to pick me up, when out of nowhere Kate plopped down beside me. I glanced around, but there was no one else nearby. Just killing time before gymnastics practice. She wore a thin silver bracelet on her left arm, and it glinted in the sun.

Her wrists were tiny. It took me a moment to get what she was talking about. Then I remembered: the headstands. I made a face. You almost had it those last couple of times. What do you do? I was one of the last people picked, even for something simple like dodgeball. What did I do? Karen and Elise, two girls from our grade, came around the corner of the school.

They stopped when they saw us, and their eyebrows went up. Want to come? The lines marking the parking spaces were faint and needed to be repainted. Karen said something in a low voice, and the two of them broke out laughing.

It came out sounding snotty, and I blushed. I sat up and wrapped my arms around my legs. And Elise can be kind of a pain sometimes. Anyway, I know both of them already. I felt that way a lot, like I had thoughts within me but it took a long time for them to bubble to the surface. By that point, most people had lost interest.

But that was four years ago. I asked her once why she had come up to me that day, why she had decided to be so nice. This was when we were still friends, so I grinned and shoved her shoulder.

But you were funny, too. You made me laugh. You know that.

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Dear Kissing Kate, Why did you do that to me? You gave me an interesting premise, decent main characters, and pretty good chemistry between the main couple something I find majorly lacking in most YA books, especially YA LGBT , but you failed in one of the most important areas -- your subplots sucked ass. In fact, I kind of liked her. I tried reading Annie on My Mind. It bored me. I tried reading Empress of the World. I tried reading Keeping You A Secret.

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And then my head grew light, because how could I even think such a thing? I take it back, I prayed. I squeezed my eyes shut and wished I could take it all back, everything that had happened, so that Kate and I could return to being friends like we used to be. I felt wrong inside without her, weepy and miserable and pathetic.

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