I'm not going to write a synopsis of this novel. Forgive me. I will add one of my favorite scenes, though. I'm sure it's missing italicized words, but you'll get the gist. It also ends after about 4000 characters, so, you know. I like to sometimes read it in the morning with a cup of coffee and pretend that I'm there with them:

She was sitting at the kitchen table somewhat somberly. She had thrown on a t-shirt and shorts and was waiting for the coffee to brew. Over the drip and steam of the pot, she heard a stirring from down the hall in the master bedroom. A few moments later her sister emerged.

"Hey sis," she said yawnily, still wearing an almost obscenely large t-shirt that hung loosely about her slender frame, "you got that coffee on, huh?"

Claire nodded. Her sister's boyfriend, Danny, had left for work an hour or so earlier, but Erica typically worked later in the day, especially on weekends, and tended to be more of a night person, anyway. This was still, in fact, rather early to see her up.

She walked over to a little window by the sink.

"Balls," she said, for no apparent reason, in way, I suppose, of reply, and in a tone so matter-of-fact that it was as if she was simply announcing that the sun was shining or the wind blowing. She turned back to Claire.

"So, did that boy of yours sneak out early or something? I didn't hear him this morning."

"No," Claire said emphatically, in almost the same beleaguered tone an adolescent addresses an embarrassing parent.

"He didn't spend the night."

"What?" Erica said surprised. "That was rude."

"No, it's not like that," she said. "We haven't, you know. . ."

Erica looked at her sister quizzically.

"Hold on, let me get this straight—you've been with this guy for, how long?"

"Since April."

"And you haven't saddled 'im up?" speaking with a sudden western drawl. "You haven't taken that boy out for a ride?" she asked, waving her hand in the air, imitating a bull rider while sort of gyrating her hips against the kitchen counter.

"Erica!—it's not like that. . ." Claire responded. She was already feeling a little awkward about this particular aspect of her relationship with Tom, and didn't know how to explain it to her sister.

The coffee machine beeped a few times to announce it was ready.

Erica giggled.

"I'm just giving you a hard time," she said as she moved to the cabinet that held the mugs. "It is sort of strange, though, don't you think?" She looked over; "You have a mug?"

"No."

She pulled out two ceramic coffee mugs.

"You want Garfield or Cape Canaveral?"

"Um, Garfield, I guess."

Erica poured the first of the coffee into the Garfield mug, then filled the other.

"Cream and sugar?"

"Sure."

Erica pulled out the creamer from the fridge and brought it over to the table with Claire's mug. She went back to retrieve her own mug and the sugar, which was in another cabinet.

"Well then," she said, after returning and taking a seat next to her sister, "what's on for today?"

Claire picked up the sugar and poured a little into her coffee.

"Tom invited me to a barbeque at his house. He and his roommate are having people over." Then, after a short pause, she added, "Would you like to come?"

Erica giggled.

"No—well yea, but no." She finished stirring together the ingredients of her drink and took a sip. She looked out the window behind Claire. It was a beautiful day, almost cloudless, and the sky was pale blue, as though still somewhat drowsy from the night before, masked in a thin haze. "I'm working in the afternoon so I probably...