Complementary and Acute

By Ella Lyons

It’s Anabelle Horton’s senior year at Dearington Boarding School, and everything is exactly as she wants it. She’s captain of the Number Ninjas, her schedule is perfect, and her best friend Jacqueline Flores is going to be right by her side for all of it. But on the first day back at Dearington, Jac throws a wrench in Anabelle’s tidy plans. Not only has she rearranged her schedule and dropped Number Ninjas, she’s joined the Girls who Like Girls Program, leaving Anabelle’s entire schedule in upheaval.

Jac is never around and when she is, she’s got new friends (who Anabelle hates) or she’s running off to a lecture on alternative footwear. Anabelle is left to deal with the changes on her own, and suddenly, Jac’s inability to keep their dorm room tidy is the very least of Anabelle’s problems.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ella Lyons
• Release date: Jul 20, 2015

Ella Lyons

Jenn is a tea drinking, quilt making, music obsessed, bisexual yogi who lives on the outskirts of Atlanta with her husband, her son, and their two retired greyhounds. She loves reading, writing, having cookies, making cookies, talking about cookies, and eating cookies. She does not like being out of cookies. Come and say hi, and feel free to bring cookies.

Book preview

Complementary and Acute

Copyright 2015 Jennifer Fitzpatrick

Published by Jennifer Fitzpatrick at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

About Ella Lyons

Other books by Ella Lyons

Acknowledgements

For Juli, of course

Chapter One

The tiny dorm was just as they’d left it at the end of last term, all honey-pale hardwoods and soft gray walls. The school’s laundry service had already come and gone, leaving their beds dressed in crisp white linens. Home sweet home, Jac Flores said, dropping her bag on the floor and flopping down on her bed. She toed off her shoes, which went flying across the small room and landed with twin thumps in front of the dresser.

Anabelle Horton grimaced. Honestly, she didn’t even have that many rules for their room. And not leaving your shoes where Anabelle—who was awkward on her best day and downright clumsy on all the others—would fall and break her ankle was just polite. And as her best friend since their first day at Dearington, Anabelle thought it only fair that Jac be polite.

Jac, your shoes, she said, but even as she spoke she walked across the room and picked them up. She carried them over to Jac’s closet and lined them up carefully on the top shelf. She hadn’t unpacked her orange oil deodorizing spray yet, so they’d just have to wait until she could get into her suitcases.

Leave them alone, Jac said, rolling over, her black curls trailing behind her. How had her hair grown that much in the three months since they’d finished their junior year? Anabelle’s had hardly budged. She’d even waited eight weeks between trims instead of six, and still her hair barely reached her shoulders. She wished she could go back in time and talk herself out of that stupid bob she’d thought was so adorable last spring. Her face was far too round and her hair far too straight to pull it off. She’d spent weeks looking like a drowned cherub. Come cuddle me. I missed you.

In a second, Anabelle said. She adjusted Jac’s shoes and then, satisfied, straightened out the curtains she’d sewn to cover the closets. She still thought closet was a generous term. It was hardly more than a recess in the wall with a bar and a shelf tacked up on the wall. But the curtains were a pretty yellow, and they matched the pillows Anabelle had made for their twin beds. It could be worse. The girls across the hall just left theirs open and piled their shoes in on top of their laundry and field hockey crap. Their room smelled like boys. Anabelle hated it.

My shoes will still be there in ten minutes, but I’ll have wasted away from lack of cuddles.

With a roll of her eyes and a laugh, Anabelle flopped down on Jac’s bed. Her body curved into Jac’s automatically, and Jac pillowed her head on Anabelle’s shoulder.

Better?

Jac hummed and butted her head into Anabelle like a kitten. It was a long summer.

Anabelle tugged on one of Jac’s curls, just to