Because she is. Unfortunately, until Jess proves she's back to normal activities, her parents won't discuss college. She gets a fake boyfriend and a social life. Jess has no idea Gray signed on for reasons other than money. She also never expects to fall in love. Gray Porter is hiding secrets of his own. About Jess Jordan. Advertising Download Read Online. Info about the book Author: Anne Elliot.
Series: Unknown. ISBN: Even with the serious topic, this story is very funny and swoon-worthy. Some of Jess' social awkwardness had me cracking up, and you can't help but love this clueless girl. The list of texting abbreviations she gets, and uses, from her younger sister makes for some hilarious moments of confusion. The romance in the story just melts your heart. Gray is such a knight-in-shining armor, and his "stunning, crystal-green eyes," don't hurt either!
This might be a little spoilery, so skip over if you don't want to know, but here's a little teaser quote for you: I let go of her hands so I can pull her closer. Her arms go around my neck and she's coiled her fingers into the back of my hair. The soft trembling feel of her lips sends lightning down my spine. And I soar, fly, and die of happiness all in the same second. I completely loved this story! There's depth, sadness, humor, and romance in all the right amounts.
I couldn't wipe the smile from my face once I finished this. View all 26 comments. Apr 25, Melissa Ever So Mela rated it it was ok Shelves: pygmalion-effect , ya-romance , trigger-warning. I almost liked this. I almost enjoyed Jess Jordan. Her sister, Kiki, was almost endearing. Grey and Jess' inner ramblings were almost delightful. The leads almost communicated. These characters were almost relatable. Grey almost sounded like a guy. Jess' idiocy was almost understandable.
The writing was almost readable. The exclamation points almost had me going up the walls. Rape was almost handled well. And I almost DNF'd it. So I remember mentioning once this thing I almost liked this. So I remember mentioning once this thing I have where I rarely, if ever, remember author's names not just their names, everyone's. I don't know why but I am terrible with names. I'll probably remember a name that is frequently mentioned or an author who's books I've loved.
Or greatly despised. So why is this relevant? Well, after I bought Almost, I found out this is the same author of Unmaking of Hunter Kennedy , a book that still to this day gets a aggravated sigh and eye roll every time it's mentioned. It's not that I automatically write authors off if I hated their first book, I'm just extremely cautious when picking up another one. Not that I hoped for a lot either. You see, the only thing that ever really rang true was the dedications page. That felt heartfelt and held meaning.
Everything else? Not so much. I think if you're going to write a book that handles rape or attempted rape, you might not want to promote rape culture. But that's just me and my thoughts. Personally I couldn't stomach her parents, the coach, or the therapist.
These were people who's actions constantly went in favor of victim blaming. I mean what father says "I hope she learned her lesson" when he finds out his daughter had been drugged and almost rapped. What mother doesn't demand to prosecute this man for what he did to her daughter. And it is never the victim's fault. It's not that I hated the romance but, honestly?
Why did she have to meet a guy to be able to survive? Why did a guy have to solve her problems? Why did a guy have to come in and save the day? View all 18 comments. Shelves: in-my-kindle , favourites , cant-put-these-down. Once in a while, an unassuming book comes my way which simply makes me catch my breath. Its characters told the perfect stories, said all the right things, looked exactly how I liked them to look, did the things I expected them to do Almost is that book.
This is a story about a girl who's been living in a nightmare for the last three years. She has a perfect family who supports her, understands her, cares for her. But no amount Once in a while, an unassuming book comes my way which simply makes me catch my breath. But no amount of loving could stop the nightmares she endures every night. Reliving the rape that almost happened to her when she was a freshman makes her avoid sleeping at night every chance she gets.
Her parents are convinced that the only way she could move on to college is that if she can prove to them that she's now somehow healed and back to being 'normal'.
And what is normal anyway? Having friends? An opportunity presents itself when Gray Porter, jock extraordinaire, serial heartbreaker, agreed to be her fake boyfriend for the summer. How far will this farce go? Maybe only as far as Gray's secrets could take him. Anne Eliot managed to tell this painful story in the most light-hearted way possible.
The characters' funny and more often awkward encounters perfectly camouflaged their murky and shady connection that only one of them has a full awareness of. I love, love, love these two characters.
Their dynamics worked so well while they hid their true feelings behind their sarcasm and humour. Gray is the ultimate heartthrob who won me over with his dimpled smile, kindness and social ineptness around Jess.
Aside from Melina Marchetta's characters, I don't think I've ever fallen so hard for a cast as I have with everyone here. There have been so many YA books written where the absence of any kind of family relationships was noticeable but not here. I love Jess' supporting and ever-present parents and her younger sister who molly-coddled her at every turn.
Gray's Gran and his two best friends is an unbreakable circle and pillar of support for this tormented, guilty boy who only ever wanted to do the right thing to begin with. I can never pretend to understand what people like Jess has gone through in one way or another. I like that Anne Eliot skims the surface of Jess' suffering just so. It wasn't overwrought but it was touching just the same. The key to Jess' recovery was through remembering - facing the demons that her subconscious' defence mechanism hid from her.
To some, it may seem like a convenient resolution but I disagree. Sometimes, no amount of therapy or drugs can help a person. Sometimes, it's only as simple as remembering. This book is one of those rare ones that clicked in every possible way.
The characters, dialogues, their banters. It's one of those books that though not written perfectly, the story is just too good to distract you from some minute mistakes.
Thank you, Rachel for the recc! View all 9 comments. Member: BBB. Let me repeat. This is me shouting it out because I cannot stress this enough: I'm in Love. Gray has got to be the sweetest, cutest, most unselfish, most honorable book boyfriend ever. And for me to say that, is a huge deal.
I'm sooooooo unbelievably happy right now. I'm so happy that I chose to read this amazing story. Seriously amazing. Jess is fighter. During her freshman year, she was almost raped by a senior hockey player, until someone stopped him.
Enter Gray Porter. Gray was just a scrawny freshman hockey player taking on the senior when he stopped the almost incident. He did everything he could to help Jess. He quit the Varsity team for her, and was ready to testify on her behalf. So unbelievably honorable Mr. Porter was.
Unfortunately, Jess' parents, along with the coach believed nothing good could come out of prosecuting since Jess couldn't remember anything. Flash forward to the end of Junior year. Jess, however, needs to convince her parents that she's over her traumatic past and that she's coping with her PTSD.
She convinces herself that getting a boyfriend would definitely prove to her parents that she's normal and ready for college. They managed to convince the company to take both of them for the job, but only paying one intern Gray. In return, Gray will pretend to be Jess' boyfriend for the summer. Gray has always harbored feelings for Jess and agrees to this arrangement. However, their pretend relationship leads to more.
Both are torn with their feelings for one another. Is it all just pretend or is it more? Will Jess' nightmares from that horrible night ever stop? Will she remember Gray's involvement? Ahhhh, the turmoil. Loved it. Jess' character was pretty frustrating at times, but for the most part was real and honest.
She was going through some major issues. Gray was just an absolutely perfect hero. He was so unbelievably sweet and patient with Jess. And that letter he wrote her? I could read that 50 million times and it would still have me swooning. It reminded me so much of Jane Austen's letter in Persuasion, which I find kinda funny considering the author's name is Anne Eliot. Get it? Anne Elliot? Persuasion people! Loved everything about this story. Oh and trying to decipher those texts had me cracking up.
It was so adorkable. I can seriously go on and on about it. View all 13 comments. Feb 13, Sarah rated it really liked it. No blogs, twitter feeds, and no 'almost-crazy-but-not-quite' Facebook Support Groups" "Almost.
How I hate that word and the way it defines me. Almost raped. Almost over it. Almost normal. I can almost forget. Way worse, I can almost remember. Three years on, many hours of therapy and she has almost convinced everyone else that she is okay Unfortunately, until Jess can prove to her parents that she's back to being a 'normal teenager', her parents won't even begin to discuss college applications. So, in order to convince her parents that she is 'back to normal' she gets herself a summer internship and does a deal with fellow pupil Gray Porter.
She gets a fake boyfriend and a social life, and a shot at convincing her parents that she can handle college. But Gray is hiding a secret. A secret that could destroy Jess and any progress she has made Well almost I've had this book sitting on my TBR pile for a very long time.
I'd heard great things about it and read the blurb over and over again. So many times I almost picked it up but didn't. To be honest I was just unsure wether this was a subject I was ready or willing to read about on paper. I almost didn't bother, I almost wasn't brave enough, but then for whatever reason I decided to give it a go and I am so glad I took this leap because I almost missed out on an exceptionally sweet, and at times raw, YA love story about two mixed up teenagers falling in love.
I loved so many things about this story, I loved the alternating POV's of Jess and Gray, this allowed me real insight into each characters thoughts and evolving feelings. I also loved how the author was able to bring out so many of my emotions. Yes at times it was a very difficult read for me, but at other times I was grinning like I was a teenager in love myself.
Granted there were parts of the story I struggled with, I did not always agree with the actions of some of the supporting characters, and some bits for me were very raw, but overall what amazed me about this book is how the author took a very difficult and hard to read subject matter and turned it into a story of hope, forgiveness and new beginnings, and most importantly a story about 'healing'. Thanks Rachel for recommending this book to me, I know it took me forever to actually pick it up but I got there in the end.
View all 34 comments. Feb 14, Rag rated it liked it. And instead of hitting the new books I decided that I wanted to go into the ones that have been sitting in my shelf for ever. I picked it randomly cause you know.. And if you think about it, what would the success rate be from a random choice? Well I'll tell you what, pretty low! Cause again you know that I was so board out of my mind in this book that I found new talents I didn't know I even had.
What a talent! I am the next Raven! Blood spattered the gym floortons of itlike it was falling from the fire sprinklers, and the teacher screamed so loudly everyone thought she'd been hurt. No one else moved or made a single sound for the longest time, including me.
Especially me. Jennaprobably all of ushad been in shock. I know shock. It's when you can't process or do anything properly during a messed up situation. Oftenafteryou might not recall one bit of what happened.
Jenna still swears she doesn't remember falling. Gray had been the only one to step up. He sort of saved her. He took Jenna's face in his hands. Very gentlyI do remember that. He tilted her chin toward his so she couldn't see her arm or any of the blood. He also blocked her view of the teacher who by that point, had quieted because she'd vomited under the basketball net. Look right here. Right at me, Gray said, signaling someone to run to the office.
He wrapped her arm around the sleeve of his hoodie and applied pressure like some sort of first-aid expert. Keep your eyes on me, Jenna, he said.
The nurse is coming. She's going to get your parents. Just hold on. Stay with me. Eyes on mine. Right here. You're going to be fine, Jenna. Just fine. I shudder as I remember the sound of his voice. Today, after the close-up view of that dude's green, green eyes, I now understand why Jenna hadn't moved the whole time.
He'd hypnotized her with those things. I shake my head and sigh. Gray's not a bully. He's the opposite, which is much, much worse.
He's a hero. Hero guys tend to win stuff even if they aren't qualified. He's probably here at this second interview because he pulled off something impressive and cool-headed yesterday, but what? Kitten rescue? Toddler running in front of a bus? The CEO choking on a mini-solar phone charger? Let's hope not. I hadn't even considered the possibility of losing this internship to someone else. But what if?
What if Gray wins it? I can't let that happen. I can't. I won't. I take in a few more long breaths and switch my expression to serene and confident as I hop up the curb leading to the front steps. Confidence beats any other emotion when trying to convince people you've got things handled. I need Geekstuff. How hard could it be to return his lame attempt at a shake down with one of my own? All I can do is what I know. Fake it, stay awake, smile and see what happens.
The Geekstuff. As for Gray Porter? He can suck it on the way out. The stinging in my forehead intensifies to remind me the guy inside the lobby is already one point ahead.
I reach up and find a huge, warm lump above my right eye. It's badlike a mutant spider biteand it hurts. Of course it does. He's two points ahead. I'll give him two. I pull more bangs loose so the lump is covered, and I add Gray Porter to my hate list, right between seashells and parties. I feel instantly stronger. My hate list hasn't changed in years. Total proof of progress! If only I could share this one with my mom.
But she doesn't know I like to keep lists. Either way. I'm calling it. Chapter Two Gray Does she remember? Does she remember me? I should've left her alone. I can't learn. I can't learn, I say, not even trying to whisper as bile settles at the back of my throatmore with every step Jess Jordan takes in my direction. I couldn't be happier the lights in the lobby of Geekstuff. Because it's Sunday, it appears no one is waiting to greet me for the interview. To greet us. Holy shit.
Me and Jess Jordan. I cringe, hating the idea of being trapped in this room with her. I push away the images of the party that changednoruinedboth of our lives freshman year. Does she remember? I did the right thing to wake her up, I say even louder. As though noise could drown out my questions, hide my cowardice and undo what I did wrong out there in the parking lot. What I didn't do right at that party years ago Goose bumps plaster my arms as I replay the promise I made to this girl's parents three years ago: Stay out of Jess Jordan's radar and don't go near her.
A promise I'd kept faithfully for three yearsuntil today. Of course I'd kept it. Her psycho mom told me if I approached Jess, the girl would suffer a serious setback. Or a flashback, or I would have promised anything back then. Hell, I'd offered to do way more, but her parents wouldn't let me.
They only wanted me to stay away from their daughter. I didn't want to risk Jess suffering any more hurt, so I agreed to never approach her. Only, crap! I just did way more than approach her. I accidentally scared the hell out of her. Then, I blinked at her like a gaping asshole. And ran. Let's not forget that classy move.
My pack's heavy. Full of mock product ideas required for this interview today. Mine are hockey pucks in various duct-taped configurations. And, I'm pretty sure they suck, but I didn't want to show up empty handed. Who knew they'd sound like an exploding bomb when slammed into her Jeep? It's not like I slam my backpack into random vehicles to test the sound it's going to make.
She's getting closer. I swallow and scan the room for exit signs. If I'd left her there asleep. If I'd walked awaythen what? I mutter, glancing quickly over my shoulder to make sure I'm still alone. I contemplate leaving again, but this makes me angry with myself and unfairly, at her. I want this internship. This is about me! Not Jess Jordan. I'd figured Jess had parked behind the dumpsters to pull some sort of surprise attack.
At the very least she'd been trying to eye the competition. It's why I'd shown up early. I'll admit that. I'd wanted to call her bluff. Let Jess know her car had been spotted. But thenhell. I saw her. Sleeping away in that Jeep, blanket and all. Acting as though she didn't have a care in the world. I must've been struck with temporary insanity. That, or a giant alien magnet had drawn me straight out of my car and right to the side of hers.
She'd been so far gone, I'd spent three good minutes peeking over her dash watching her breathe. All that time, I tried to convince myself to leave her there. Jess, missing this interview, should've been my personal gift from fate. A gift I well deserved after all the bullshit I've had to eat because of herthat nightthat party. I'd almost had myself talked into bolting, when she'd smiled in her sleep. Held out her hand like she was having a strange dream.
After that, I couldn't leave her there alone. What went down at that party years ago wasn't her fault. It wasn't my fault, either. Not directly. But I'm not one to repeat my mistakesthat's for sure. Maybe I screwed up by freaking her out; but I wasn't about to leave Jess Jordan needing something from me ever again.
I run my hand through my hair and manage to swallow the tight ball of what feels like dry, scaredshitless-dirt lodged at the back of my throat. The nagging questions won't stop: Does she remember? I don't know why I'm worried about that. From what her parents told mefrom my careful non-interactions with herJess has no idea who I am. No memory of the night I stopped her from being raped by a senior asshole at a hockey party.
The night I chickened out and ran out on her after she'd asked me to stay. GodI'd been such a loser that year. I'd done my best to make it right after. After, the guys on the team beat the shit out of me for blowing the whistle. After, I'd quit playing competitive ice hockey when the coach wouldn't prosecute the player who tried to hurt Jess. Butafter is always too late. I've learned that lesson. No such thing as re-plays or penalty points in real life, no matter how valid and real the fouls might be.
I eye the large, over-stuffed bag Jess has brought along for her interview. I can only imagine the perfect product samples she's concocted to win this internship. The girl's loaded, has straight A's, and adults love her. I can guarantee her product samples won't be made out of tape, hope and bullshit like mine. The people who run this place must have fallen for her big-time. But they'd liked me too! Invited me backlike they'd invited her. Yesterday, the CEO, Mr. Foley, told me I have the creativity and motivation Geekstuff.
And hell yes, I do. Desperation and an empty wallet makes for buckets of creativity and motivation. I stare, knowing she can't see me behind this door. I take in her small frown, fair skin, and determined expression.
She's sporting some brown, geek-girl shoes, and her long legs are hidden under the weirdest grey skirt I've ever seen. Looking at her now, I remember my stupid freshman crush on this girl. How she'd always had this easy smile and quiet laughter. How she also blew me off every time I came near, and how empty and lost her eyes had seemed after she'd come back to school.
I pull in a ragged breath. I think Jess was the lucky one to have her slate wiped clean. Remembering all this time has been hell.
As much as she might not know meas much as I've worked to keep myself out of her radarI've been tracking this girl out of the corners of my eyes ever since. Jess makes it to the landing and pauses. For the second time today, glass is the only thing separating her face from mine.
It's impossible. A trickle of sweat drips between my shoulders and my knees start this embarrassing quaking thing. Exploding grenade heartbeats kill my chest, reminding mebegging meto do the right thing. Only, after my backpack moveafter staring at her like thisI have no idea what the right thing is supposed to be anymore. I hold my ground and decide to play it out. It's not like this same girl can trash my life twice. I've already broken the promise I made to her parents. I can't erase the fact that she's seen me up close.
Way too close. If the girl is going to have some sort of episode or flashback thing then I suppose I should hang around. Try to make things right, or call an ambulanceor something. I step into a darker part of the room, watching as she frowns at her reflection in the door. She pauses to mess with her bangs.
Besides, I'm staying because I need the money, I mutter, over and over again. But I can't silence the nagging truth: I'm simply too curious to leave. I wonderI want to know. Chapter Three Jess All of my imagined warrior-princess-bravado fades when I'm vanquished by Geekstuff.
As I push through it knocks me forward like a paper doll. It's all I can do to save myself from tripping flat on my face in the dark lobby. The contents of my bag create a junk and paper waterfall. I manage to maintain my mask of composure by keeping my eyes trained on the scattering mess. Make-up containers and my precious iPhone have been ejected like bullets. They travel the farthest, coming to a rest at the base of the receptionist's paisley-shaped, and thankfully, vacated desk.
It's not lost on me in this air-conditioned battlefield that my breathing sounds embarrassingly erratic next to Gray's very calm and employable steady intakes of breath. He's somewhere on my right. I glance through my lashes and find his navy blue Converse moving toward the epicenter of my mess. I move in the opposite direction. As he bends to scoop up a few of my things, I'm completely aware that the guy has open access to my interview secrets. This makes me feel slightly ill, and annoyed at myself for losing control of my stuff.
And of myself. I never lose control of that. I panic for a moment and look into my bag, relaxing a little when I realize it's only my makeup and product samplesabout twenty bumperstickersthat have spilled.
The rsums and the ridiculous How to Be Normal checklist my ever-helpful sister handed me this morning must still be at the bottom of my bag. I'm proud of the bumper stickers solet him look. Maybe they'll intimidate him. Because I'm not prepared to have any sort of intelligible smack-down sessiona session that must happen soon, I go after the other stuff. I scoop up my phone and the Sunshine Glow Mineral Powder first. This item has exploded into beige dust-bombs a few times in my bag.
I'm happy to find it's intact and not all over the eggplant-colored carpet. I hate the junk, but it's the only product that can wipe out the permanent dark circles I have under my eyes from not sleeping at night. I pick up the blush compact next. It's necessary because it has the mirror and the freshening pink tones my grey-colored cheeks crave.
My lip-gloss, then the red-reducing eye drops are last. I shove the items into my skirt pocket and feel slightly comforted by their presence. I'm not vain or anything; it's just that without these products I look like the walking dead.
Once I'm sure my expression is solid and calm, I force myself to turn and look at my opponent. Gray's gathered almost all of my bumper stickers. Instead of looking impressed and floored by my cool product samples, he has the nerve to be sporting a confused expression. He's also shaking his head. With a lightning quick glance at me first, he reads one bumper sticker: Member: BBB. Boys in Books are Better? He shakes his head again. I didn't know you made these bumper stickers.
This one's been on your car since last month. I gasp before I can stop myself. How do you know that? I like cars and I love Jeeps. His eyes flit to my face again and his cheeks go all red. This time he's trying to hold my gaze so I lock onto his for a stare down and don't respond.
Silence always freaks people out. He shrugs as though he hasn't noticed and continues, Your Jeep is the most tricked out vehicle in the whole school. He waves my bumper sticker in the air. You slapped this very same chunk of duct tape silliness right onto the paint.
They're called bumper stickers for a reason. They go on the bumper. Although with your chrome package I wouldn't even do that. I have no idea what he's talking about. What's a chrome package? Amazingly, the guy doesn't break my stare despite the ice bullets I've slammed into him. Maybe he's not wearing his glasses, or it's too dark in here for me to be properly effective.
It's all I can do to keep a straight face and the glower from slipping. I think I'm losing control all over again. This is because I've registered two things above and beyond his hypnotic green eyes and rock star hot voice. His perfectly square chin has one of those little divots dead center.
He's taller, and wider across the shoulders than I'd thought. My heart ramps into some sort of a private hailstorm. My list won't stop. Maybe during. Wouldn't that be epic? Excuse me, Mr. They'd probably assume I was hung over. Or a drug addict! Which…I suppose, I am.
Everyone knows caffeine is a drug, after all. And I'm definitely addicted to it. My stomach clenches and twists again so hard I want to cry. Instead, I close my eyes and breathe slowly, willing the energy drinks—more importantly that amazing caffeine—to stick. The cool glass against my forehead seems to help and the cramps fade away.
Thank you, God. I snuggle deeper into the blanket and try to focus on my interview plan. The iPhone is playing classical. Classical works best when I want to visualize end results.
Olympic athletes run their moves before they compete too. I know landing the summer internship at Geekstuff. But to me, this interview is the most important competition of my life. Without this job, my future is doomed. I see myself enter the same room where I beat thirty applicants yesterday. The CEO asks to see my mock product samples. He's impressed! I imagine myself smiling and being all social.
How I can't wait to see the inner workings of an online store. The social part is hardest. All bluff and faking it. But me, owning the products, is complete truth. I love every geek-gadget, toy and t-shirt they sell here—even the Star Wars stuff.
There's no cooler company in the world. I imagine saying: I can't live without this awesome lamp. Another truth. I love the lamp. It's my nightlight. I'm smiling, accepting the internship—handshake and all—when something slams into my Jeep. Not with another car—but with a fist or a body! I don't know what—because my eyes were closed! The Jeep rocks. I whack my knees into the steering wheel while my head hits the window with a dull thunk.
When I look up I'm almost nose-to nose with a guy. A guy who's peering into the windshield like he wanted to see my reaction to his lame prank!
I recognize him from my school: Gray Porter. Junior—soon to be Senior. Same as me. And not one of my usual tormentors. My carefully const ructed interview-bun slips. Wisps of blond frizz fall around my shoulders. Feeling overexposed like some caged circus act, I manage to paste on one of my defensive sneers.
I shout so he can hear me. He's just staring. It's all I can do not to blush like a dork. I haven't been this close to a guy—heck—anyone besides my family, in years. That's when I notice Gray Porter might own the most stunning, crystal-green eyes on the entire planet. I'm really good at that. He seems…alarmed. Or does he look …apologetic? And double-WTF? I take stock of myself. My heart's pounding jacked-up-stereo loud, but he can't hear it through the glass.
I check my hands gripped on the steering wheel. Thankfully, they've got no signs of visible trembling. After three years of practice, I'm a master at keeping all body shakes hidden. Even so, he's got me so rattled I have to work to decide my next move. Why is he still staring? I must need a more scathing expression on my face. I choose fearless scorn—one of my best. Took months to perfect this one. I sneer, and twist my lip. That got his attention, because he just turned all red. He's opened his mouth like he's going to say something.
As if there's anything to say. I fire out my dismiss-the-dumbass blinks as fast as I can. And bam-ba bam, bam, bam! He winces and steps back.
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