Description:
One
October morning, high school junior Bryan Dennison wakes up a different
person—helpful, generous, and chivalrous—a person whose new admirable qualities
he doesn’t recognize. Stranger still is the urge to tie a red sheet around his
neck like a cape.
Bryan soon realizes this compulsion to wear a red cape is accompanied by more unusual behavior. He can’t hold back from retrieving kittens from tall trees, helping little old ladies cross busy streets, and defending innocence anywhere he finds it.
Shockingly, at school, he realizes he used to be a bully. He’s attracted to the former victim of his bullying, Scott Beckett, though he has no memory of Scott from before “the change.” Where he’d been lazy in academics, overly aggressive in sports, and socially insecure, he’s a new person. And although he can recall behaving egotistically, he cannot remember his motivations.
Everyone, from his mother to his teachers to his “superjock” former pals, is shocked by his dramatic transformation. However, Scott Beckett is not impressed by Bryan’s newfound virtue. And convincing Scott he’s genuinely changed and improved, hopefully gaining Scott’s trust and maybe even his love, becomes Bryan’s obsession.
Bryan soon realizes this compulsion to wear a red cape is accompanied by more unusual behavior. He can’t hold back from retrieving kittens from tall trees, helping little old ladies cross busy streets, and defending innocence anywhere he finds it.
Shockingly, at school, he realizes he used to be a bully. He’s attracted to the former victim of his bullying, Scott Beckett, though he has no memory of Scott from before “the change.” Where he’d been lazy in academics, overly aggressive in sports, and socially insecure, he’s a new person. And although he can recall behaving egotistically, he cannot remember his motivations.
Everyone, from his mother to his teachers to his “superjock” former pals, is shocked by his dramatic transformation. However, Scott Beckett is not impressed by Bryan’s newfound virtue. And convincing Scott he’s genuinely changed and improved, hopefully gaining Scott’s trust and maybe even his love, becomes Bryan’s obsession.
Excerpt:
“I REALLY like what you did with the dream topic, Scott. It
was very creative.” We had just completed an in-class free-writing assignment
about the last dream we could remember having.
My partner dished out a serving of his usual venom. “Save it
for someone who cares.”
Ignoring his extreme negative attitude toward me was getting
easier and easier each day. “I mean, your description of the beach, well, I
felt like I was right there with you in your dream.”
“I’m so glad you weren’t.”
“Did you read my dream paper?”
“I had to, didn’t I?”
“What did you think?”
Scott turned my paper over, and he scrawled the word
BULLSHIT in red pen right across the back side of the sheet. And that,
apparently, was the only edit he was going to make.
Succinct, concise, to the point. No word-mincing going on
around here. And I appreciate directness.
“So you aren’t convinced?”
“Not by the part where you said that all you remember of the
blond-haired boy is what you dream about him.” The very same blond-haired boy I
had just written so truthfully about sent me a skeptical glare. “Like, you
really expect me to buy that?”
“It’s true. I was having that dream when my mother came in
my room to wake me up this morning. She told me I was sleep-talking—like a
cowboy.”
He stared at me, speechless, which I probably should’ve
considered a positive thing.
“Don’t you remember how much fun we had doing the Western
skit?”
“That’s not the part I don’t buy.”
“I’m so sorry about the football game thing.”
“Uh-huh. Right.”
“I have an awesome idea—there’s a game on Saturday night—we
could go together.”
“Sure, we can go together when… when pigs fly. How does that
work for you?”
Ignoring the venom he’d just spewed, I continued, “I thought
that I’d borrow my mom’s car, and I’d pick you up at around three, and we could
grab a bite to eat, maybe barbeque over at the strip mall, and then head over
to the field.”
“In your dreams, Dennison. Hey, maybe you’ll dream about the
football game tonight and when your mother comes in tomorrow morning you’ll be
sleep-cheerleading! Go Cardinals! Rah! Rah! Rah!”
“Okay, everybody, discussion time is over. Please pass your
papers forward—I’m very excited to read about your dreams and to check out what
your partners found interesting enough to comment on.” I collected his paper
and handed it, together with mine, to the girl in front of me. Meanwhile, Scott
chewed on his bottom lip, looking a bit concerned, probably because the edit he
had given me consisted of only one hastily scribbled word. And that one word
was a word we weren’t even supposed to use at school.
“So what do you say about me and you going to the game,
Scott?”
And for the first time since the change had happened, his
expression softened. He leaned in toward me, and said softly, “I can’t go,
Bryan. I can’t ever go anywhere with you.”
I spoke quietly back to him. “But I said I was sorry—for
everything.”
“You keep saying that you can’t remember our friendship, and
that all you know of our relationship is from what you dream. Oh, and that you
can’t remember what you and your friends did to me that night. But Bryan, maybe
you can’t remember, but I just can’t forget—not any of it—because it hurts way
too fucking much.”
“I… I just can’t…. I can’t….” I had no idea what I was
trying to say.
“What you just can’t do is tell me the truth. You just can’t
look me in the eyes, admit to remembering it all, and say you acted like a
complete dickhead.”
Miss Libby’s voice sliced through Scott’s accusation. “Class
is dismissed. Don’t forget to pick up tonight’s journal topic from off the desk
by the door.”
I followed him with my eyes as he got up, grabbed his
backpack, and headed toward the door. And although his words had stung, I
couldn’t help but feel like we’d somehow taken a step forward. Yeah, Scott had
rejected me. And no, he didn’t believe a word I said. But he had spoken to me
for the first time in plain words.
In honest words.
As I passed by Miss Libby’s desk, she held up the paper on
which I had written about my dream, and pointed to Scott’s nasty single-word
edit.
“How are things, Bryan? Are you making any progress in the
area you mentioned to me?”
“It’s very slow going, Miss Libby.” I stopped right in front
of her desk. “But I’m not gonna give up.”
And that’s when she smiled at me in the way I’d recently
started yearning for—like she knew I was putting forth my very best in this
effort to make amends. And I really was.
Enter to Win!
Mia Kerick is the mother of four
exceptional children—all named after saints—and five non-pedigreed cats—all
named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband
of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t
ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.
Mia focuses her stories on the
emotional growth of troubled men and their relationships, and she believes that
sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a
love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of
tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of
1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She
is thankful to Dreamspinner Press for providing her with an alternate place to
stash her stories.
Mia is proud of her involvement
with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in
the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing
or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered
pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.
My
themes I always write about:
Sweetness.
Unconventional love, tortured/damaged heroes - only love can save them.
Author Links:
Website ● Amazon ● Facebook ● Goodreads
Buy Links:
Amazon ● B&N ● Dreamspinner
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