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Eureka questions why she's so in love with this guy who lies to her. If he wanted to die, he would have to get out of the boat. Because pussy will win out against humanity and common sense every single time. Her fingers rapped on the steering wheel. What does the notebook say? She was stranded.

Oct 28, Pages Young Adult Buy. Oct 22, Pages Young Adult Buy. Oct 22, Minutes Young Adult Buy. Oct 28, Pages Young Adult. Oct 22, Pages Young Adult. Oct 22, Minutes Young Adult. An epic saga of heart-stopping romance, devastating secrets, and dark magic. She has little left that she cares about, just her friend Brooks and some heirlooms—a locket, a letter, a mysterious stone, and an ancient book about a girl who got her heart broken and cried an entire continent into the sea.

But Ander has some secrets of his own. The haunting tale is more than a story. But now her mother is gone, and everywhere Eureka goes he is there: She has little left that she cares about, just her oldest friend, Brooks, and a strange inheritance—a locket, a letter, a mysterious stone, and an ancient book no one understands.

As it teetered down, he was appalled by a view through the windshield. There she was: Soft profile, like a shadow cast by candlelight. Arms reaching for her mother, whose head knocked the steering wheel. Her scream cut Ander like glass. If this hadnt happened, everything might have been dif- ferent. But it did: For the first time in his life, she looked at him.

His hands slipped from the handles of the orichalcum an- chor. His feet lifted off the floor of the fishing boat.

By the time the car splashed into the water, Ander was swimming toward her open window, fighting the wave, drawing on every ounce of ancient strength that flowed through his blood. It was war, Ander versus the wave. It bashed into him, thrusting him against the shoal bottom of the Gulf, pummel- ing his ribs, turning his body into bruise. He gritted his teeth and swam through pain, through coral reef that slashed his skin, through shards of glass and splintered fender, through thick curtains of algae and weeds.

He saw the twisted silhouette of the car then it vanished beneath a world of foam. He nearly wept at the thought of not getting there in time. Everything quieted. The wave retreated, gathering flot- sam, dragging the car up with it. Leaving Ander behind. He had one chance. The windows were above the level of the water. As soon as the wave returned, the car would be crushed in its trough.

Ander could not explain how his body rose from the water, skidded across air. He leapt into the wave and reached out. Her body was as rigid as a vow. Her dark eyes were open, churning blue. Blood trickled down her neck as she turned to him. What did she see? What was he? The question and her gaze paralyzed Ander. In that be- wildered moment, the wave curled around them, and a cru- cial chance was lost: He knew how cruel it was. But, selfishly, he could not let her go. Just before the wave exploded over them, Ander grabbed her hand.

She massaged it a habit since the accident, which had left her half deaf. It didnt help. Across the room, a door- knob turned. Then a woman with a gauzy white blouse, olive- green skirt, and very fine, upswept blond hair appeared in the lamplit space. Her low voice competed with the burbling of a fish tank that featured a neon plastic scuba diver buried to his knees in sand but showed no sign of containing fish.

Eureka looked around the vacant lobby, wishing to invoke some other, invisible Eureka to take her place for the hour.

Im Dr. Please come in. A life ruled by three adults who couldnt agree on anything proved far messier than one ruled by just two. Dad had doubted the first analyst, an old- school Freudian, almost as much as Mom had hated the sec- ond, a heavy- lidded psychiatrist who doled out numbness in pills. Then Rhoda, Dads new wife, came onto the scene, game to try the school counselor, and the acupuncturist, and the anger manager.

But Eureka had put her foot down at the patronizing family therapist, in whose office Dad had never felt less like family. Shed actually half liked the last shrink, whod touted a faraway Swiss boarding school until her mother caught wind of it and threatened to take Dad to court.

Eureka noted her new therapists taupe leather slip- ons. Shed sat on the couch across from many similar pairs of shoes. Female doctors did this little trick: They all must have read the same dull article about the Shoe Method being gentler on the pa- tient than simply saying time was up. The office was purposefully calming: A plug- in air freshener made everything smell like cinnamon, which Eureka did not mind. Eureka tossed her bag on the floor with a loud thump honors textbooks were bricks then slid down low on the couch.

Nice place, she said. You should get one of those swinging pendulums with the silver balls. My last doctor had one. Maybe a water cooler with the hot and cold taps. If youd like some water, theres a pitcher by the sink.

Id be happy to Never mind. Eureka had already let slip more words than shed intended to speak the whole hour. She was ner- vous. She took a breath and reerected her walls. She reminded herself she was a Stoic. One of Landrys feet freed itself from its taupe flat, then used its stockinged toe to loosen the other shoes heel, reveal- ing maroon toenails.

With both feet tucked under her thighs, Landry propped her chin in her palm. What brings you here today? When Eureka was trapped in a bad situation, her mind fled to wild destinations she didnt try to avoid.

She imagined a motorcade cruising through a ticker-tape parade in the cen- ter of New Iberia, stylishly escorting her to therapy. But Landry looked sensible, interested in the reality from which Eureka yearned to escape. Eurekas red Jeep had brought her here. Bad luck had brought her here. Or was it the letter from Acadia Vermilion Hospital, stat- ing that because of her recently attempted suicide, therapy was not optional but mandatory?

The word sounded more violent than the attempt had been. The night before she was supposed to start her se- nior year, Eureka had simply opened the window and let the gauzy white curtains billow toward her as she lay down in her bed. Shed tried to think of one bright thing about her future, but her mind had only rolled backward, toward lost moments of joy that could never be again.

She couldnt live in the past, so she decided she couldnt live. She turned up her iPod. She swallowed the remainder of the oxycodone pills Dad had in the medicine cabinet for the pain from the fused disc in his spine. Eight, maybe nine pills; she didnt count them as they tumbled down her throat. She thought of her mother. She thought of Mary, mother of God, who shed been raised to believe prayed for everyone at the hour of death.

Eureka knew the Catholic teachings about suicide, but she believed in Mary, whose mercy was vast, who might understand that Eureka had lost so much there was nothing to do but sur- render. She woke up in a cold ER, strapped to a gurney and gagging on the tube of a stomach pump.

Because she didnt know the language that would have gotten her out sooner I want to live, I wont try that again Eureka spent two weeks in the psychiatric ward.

She would never forget the absurdity of jumping rope next to the huge schizophrenic woman during calisthenics, of eating oatmeal with the college kid who hadnt slit his wrists deep enough, who spat in the orderlies faces when they tried to give him pills.

Somehow, sixteen days later, Eureka was trudg- ing into morning Mass before first period at Evangeline Cath- olic High, where Belle Pogue, a sophomore from Opelousas, stopped her at the chapel door with You must feel blessed to be alive.

Eureka had glared into Belles pale eyes, causing the girl to gasp, make the sign of the cross, and scuttle to the farthest pew. In the six weeks shed been back at Evangeline, Eureka had stopped counting how many friends shed lost.

Landry cleared her throat. Eureka stared up at the drop- panel ceiling. You know why Im here. Id love to hear you put it into words. My fathers wife. Youre having problems with your stepmother? Rhoda makes the appointments. Thats why Im here. First it was to deal with the divorce, then to grieve her moth- ers death, now to unpack the suicide attempt. Without Diana, there was no one to intercede on Eurekas behalf, to make a call and fire a quack.

Eureka imagined herself still stuck in sessions with Dr. Landry at the age of eighty- five, no less screwed up than she was today. I know losing your mother has been hard, Landry said. How are you feeling? Eureka fixed on the word losing , as if she and Diana had been separated in a crowd and theyd soon reunite, clasp hands, saunter toward the nearest dockside restaurant for fried clams, and carry on as if theyd never been apart.

That morning, across the breakfast table, Rhoda had sent Eureka a text: There was a hyperlink to send the appointment to her phones calendar. When Eureka clicked on the office address, a pin on the map marked the Main Street location in New Iberia.

New Iberia? Her voice cracked. Rhoda swallowed some vile- looking green juice. Thought youd like that. New Iberia was the town where Eureka had been born, had grown up. It was the place she still called home, where shed lived with her parents for the unshattered portion of her life, until they split and her mom moved away and Dads confident stride began to resemble a shuffle, like that of the blue claw crabs at Victors, where he used to be the chef.

Eurekas old house was still there shed heard another family lived in it now but after the hurricanes, Dad hadnt wanted to put in the time or emotion to repair it. So theyd moved to Lafayette, fifteen miles and thirty light- years from home.

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Dad got a job as a line cook at Prejeans, which was bigger and far less romantic than Victors. Eureka changed schools, which sucked. Before Eureka knew that Dad was even over her mom, the two of them were moving into a big house on Shady Circle.

It belonged to a bossy lady named Rhoda. She was pregnant. Eurekas new bedroom was down the hall from a nursery- in- progress. So, no, Rhoda, Eureka did not like that this new therapist lived way out in New Iberia. How was she supposed to drive all the way to the appointment and make it back in time for her meet? The meet was important, not only because Evangeline was racing their rival, Manor High.

Today was the day Eureka had promised Coach shed make her decision about whether to stay on the team. Before Diana died, Eureka had been named senior cap- tain. After the accident, when she was physically strong enough, friends had begged her to run a few summer scrim- mages. But the one run shed gone to had made her want to scream.

Underclassmen held out cups of water drenched in pity.

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Coach chalked up Eurekas slow speed to the casts binding her wrists. It was a lie. It wasnt with the team. Her heart was in the ocean with Diana. After the pills, Coach had brought balloons, which looked absurd in the sterile psych-ward room. Eureka hadnt even been allowed to keep them after visiting hours ended. I quit, Eureka told her. She was embarrassed to be seen with her wrists and ankles bound to her bed.

Tell Cat she can have my locker. Coachs sad smile suggested that after a suicide attempt, a girls decisions weighed less, like bodies on the moon. I ran my way through two divorces and a sisters battle with cancer, Coach said. Im not saying this just because youre the fastest kid on my team.

Im saying this because maybe running is the therapy you need. When youre feeling better, come see me. Well talk about that locker. Eureka didnt know why shed agreed. Maybe she didnt want to let another person down. Shed promised to try to be back in shape by the race against Manor today, to give it one more shot. She used to love to run.

She used to love the team. But that was all before.

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Eureka, Dr. Landry prompted. Can you tell me some- thing you remember about the day of the accident? Eureka studied the blank canvas of the ceiling, as if it might paint her a clue. She remembered so little about the ac- cident there was no point opening her mouth. A mirror hung on the far wall of the office. Eureka rose and stood before it. Landry asked. Traces of the girl shed been before: And yet, just before this ap- pointment, two women Dianas age had passed her in the parking lot, whispering, Her own mother wouldnt recog- nize her.

It was an expression, like a lot of things New Iberia said about Eureka: She could argue with the wall in China and win. Couldnt carry a tune in a bucket covered in glue. Runs faster than a stomped- on pissant at the Olympics. The trouble with expressions was how easily they rolled off the tongue.

Teardrop by Lauren Kate

Those women werent thinking about the reality of Diana, who would know her daughter anywhere, anytime, no matter the circumstances. Thirteen years of Catholic school had told Eureka that Diana was looking down from Heaven and recognizing her now. She wouldnt mind the ripped Joshua Tree T- shirt under her daughters school cardigan, the chewed nails, or the hole in the left big toe of her houndstooth canvas shoes.

But she might be pissed about the hair. Eureka tried to smile at her reflection, but her face looked strange, like the comedy mask that had hung on her drama class wall last year.

Tell me about your most recent positive memory, Landry said. Eureka sank back onto the couch. It must have been that day. It must have been the Jelly Roll Morton CD on the ste- reo and her mothers awful pitch harmonizing with her awful pitch as they drove with the windows down along a bridge theyd never cross.

She remembered laughing at a funny lyric as they approached the middle of the bridge. A gaping black hole until she awoke in a Miami hospital with a lacerated scalp, a burst left eardrum that would never fully heal, a twisted ankle, two severely bro- ken wrists, a thousand bruises And no mother.

Dad had been sitting at the edge of her bed. He cried when she came to, which made his eyes even bluer. Rhoda handed him tissues.

Eurekas four- year- old half siblings, Wil- liam and Claire, clasped small, soft fingers around the parts of her hands not enclosed in casts.

Lauren Kate

Shed smelled the twins even before she opened her eyes, before she knew anyone was there or that she was alive. They smelled like they always did: Ivory soap and starry nights. Youve been in an accident. Youre going to be fine. They told her about the rogue wave that rose like a myth out of the ocean and swept her mothers Chrysler from the bridge.

They told her about scientists searching the water for a meteor that might have caused the wave. They told her about the construction workers, asked whether Eureka knew how or why their car was the only one allowed to cross the bridge. Rhoda mentioned suing the county, but Dad had mo- tioned Let it go. They asked Eureka about her miraculous sur- vival. They waited for her to fill in the blanks about how shed ended up on the shore alone.

When she couldnt, they told her about her mother. She didnt listen, didnt really hear any of it. She was grateful that the tinnitus in her ear drowned out most sounds. Sometimes she still liked that the accident had left her half- deaf. Shed stared at Williams soft face, then at Claires, thinking it would help.

But they looked afraid of her, and that hurt more than her broken bones. So she stared past them all, relaxed her gaze on the off- white wall, and left it there for the next nine days. She always told the nurses that her pain level was seven out of ten on their chart, ensuring shed get more morphine.

You might be feeling like the world is a very unfair place, Landry tried. That was unfair.

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She pictured Landrys broken- in taupe shoes rising magically from the car- pet, hovering in the air and spinning like minute and hour hands on a clock until time was up and Eureka could speed back to her meet. Cries for help like yours often result from feeling misunder stood.

Cry for help was shrink- speak for suicide attempt. It wasnt a cry for help. Before Diana died, Eureka thought the world was an incredibly exciting place. Her mother was an adventure.

She noticed things on an average walk most people would pass by a thousand times. She laughed louder and more often than anyone Eureka ever knew and there were times that had embarrassed Eureka, but these days she found she missed her mothers laughter above everything else. Together they had been to Egypt, Turkey, and India, on a boat tour through the Galpagos Islands, all as part of Di- anas archaeological work. Once, when Eureka went to visit her mother on a dig in northern Greece, they missed the last bus out of Trikala and thought they were stuck for the night until fourteen- year- old Eureka hailed an olive oil truck and they hitchhiked back to Athens.

She remembered her moth- ers arm around her as they sat in the back of the truck among the pungent, leaky vats of olive oil, her low voice murmuring: You could find your way out of a foxhole in Siberia, girl.

It was Eurekas favorite compliment. She thought of it often when she was in a situation she needed to get out of. Im trying to connect with you, Eureka, Dr.

Landry said. People closest to you are trying to connect with you. I asked your stepmother and your father to jot down some words to describe the change in you.

She reached for a mar- bled notebook on the end table next to her chair. Would you like to hear them?

Eureka shrugged. Pin the tail on the donkey. Your stepmother Rhoda. Rhoda called you chilly. She said the rest of the family engages in eggshell walking around you, that youre reclu- sive and impatient with your half siblings.

Eureka flinched. I am not. Reclusive who cared? But impatient with the twins? Was that true? Or was it an- other one of Rhodas tricks? What about Dad? Let me guess distant, morose? Landry turned a notebook page. Your father describes you as, yes, distant, stoic, a tough nut to crack. Being stoic isnt a bad thing. Since shed learned about Greek Stoicism, Eureka had aspired to keep her emotions in check. She liked the idea of freedom gained through taking control of her feelings, holding them so that only she could see them, like a hand of cards.

Landrys, Dads calling her stoic might have been a compliment. He was stoic, too. But that tough- nut phrase bothered her. Coming, too, to lose one of my parents, I have completely found myself in his thoughts and actions.

It did me good. The author has perfectly transcribed what one can feel to the loss of a loved one. Unfortunately, as I said earlier, the story is not perfect. What has most disturbed me are the descriptions, which sometimes lack coherence. Eureka is lying on the sofa in the living room and in the following sentence, there lies in her bed.