Dylan Paris is a working class kid from Georgia. A former high school dropout who is trying to clean up his act, Dylan is stunned to be selected for a six-week foreign exchange program to Israel. Alex Thompson is the daughter of a wealthy US Ambassador and San Francisco socialite. She chafes against the restrictions and expectations of her life. Several weeks overseas with an exchange program is just the right opportunity for her to examine new identities. The last thing either of them wanted or needed was to fall in love.
Genre: FICTION / Romance / ContemporaryThis prequel to the bestselling novel Just Remember to Breathe sold well over 1,000 copies in its first two weeks after release and continues to sell steadily on several platforms.
Then Rami says, “Cheers for Dylan, eh?” Everyone at the table suddenly claps, except Alex. Then Rami says, “Now I have to buy you a drink.”
With an exasperated growl, I say, “I don’t drink, Rami! Let it alone!”
I return to my seat.
Alex doesn’t say anything. She just stares forward.
I frown. I wasn’t expecting her to jump at me or to throw flowers at me as if I were her champion or something, but a simple thanks might have been nice. What the hell? Instead, she’s sitting there, not looking at me, not saying anything. She looks angry.
Then she stands. And walks to the door and out.
What. The. Hell?
I jump to my feet. “Excuse me guys, I’ll be back.”
The door bangs open as I get out onto the street. This is a crappy little street, lined with little more than fast-food joints and a few electronics and convenience stores. Alex is already fifty feet away and moving at a fast pace. Where does she think she’s going?
“Hey! Alex!”
She doesn’t stop. Christ on a crutch. I run after her, finally slowing to a stop next to her.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Back to my host family, of course. Where else am I going to go?” She’s almost in tears.
“What the hell, Alex? What did I do wrong?”
She stops and turns toward me. “What did you do wrong? More like, what did you do right? You don’t own me, Dylan Paris. You don’t even really know me. We aren’t dating. We aren’t anything.”
I want to say: we could be. But I don’t. Instead, I say, “I was just trying to help.”
“You can help by listening,” she says.
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French
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Already translated.
Translated by Stéphanie Bloch Penner
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Alexandra García Galván
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