Suzanne Selfors - Mad Love

Also by Suzanne Selfors

Saving Juliet

Coffeehouse Angel

Copyright 2011 by Suzanne Selfors

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

First published in the United States of America in January 2011
by Walker Publishing Company, Inc., a division of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.
E-book edition published in January 2011
www.bloomsburyteens.com

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to
Permissions, Walker BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:

Selfors, Suzanne.

Mad love / Suzanne Selfors.

p. cm.

Summary: With her famous romance novelist mother secretly hospitalized in an expensive mental facility, sixteen-year-old Alice tries to fulfill her publishers contract by writing a love storywith the help of Cupid.

ISBN 978-0-8027-8450-6 (hardcover)

[1. LoveFiction. 2. AuthorshipFiction. 3. Cupid (Roman deity)Fiction. 4. Manic-depressive illnessFiction. 5. Mental illnessFiction. 6. Mothers and daughtersFiction. 7. Seattle (Wash.)Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.S456922Mad 2010 [Fic]dc22 2010023261

ISBN 978-0-8027-2257-7 (e-book)

For my grandmother, Maxine McLauchlan

Behold, the Queen of Romance
declared as she gazed upon her
baby girls face for the very first time.
I have given birth to a new story,
and I shall name this story Alice.

When youre sixteen, summer is supposed to spread before you like a magic carpet, waiting to carry you to new, exciting places. Paperback novel in hand, bare feet buried in speckled sand, long kisses with the boy in the kayakthats what its supposed to be about. Summer, with its coconut and pineapple flavors, with its reggae rhythms, with its endless possibilities for adventure and romance.

But if you asked me on that Monday in July, Id tell you that there was nothing exciting about my summer forecast. My magic carpet looked more like a plain, beige indoor-outdoor kind of thing and it was nailed solidly to the ground.

If Mom had been home we might have driven to the coast or we might have rented a cabin by the river in Leavenworth. If Id had friends here in Seattle, I might have met them at Alki Beach or at Greenlake. But Id left my friends behind when I dropped out of Welmer Girls Academy. And when they started asking way too many questions about why I left school, I stopped answering. Its really hard to have best friends when youre living a secret life.

So there I sat, on the beige living room carpet, with twenty paperback romance novels stacked in front of me. I opened one of the books to its title page: Hunger of the Heart by Belinda Amorous. A few weeks ago Id promised autographed books for a bookstore event, figuring that my mother would be around to sign the books, no problem. But today was event day and Mom wasnt here. I gripped one of the midnight blue, fine-tip pens that she preferred. Call it what you mightidentity theft, forgery, fraudit had to be done. So, after a steadying breath, I signed her name, making the little heart above the i like she always did. Surely no one would figure out the truth. If a reader questioned the extra curl in the d or the slight tilt of the s , Id just say that signatures change over time, just like people.

But what I wouldnt say was that my mother had changed so much, she could no longer sign her own name. Belinda Amorous, the Queen of Romance, could no longer do much of anything.

And that was the secret.

So I signed all twenty copies of Hunger of the Heart . It had been a bestseller three years ago. Its cover was typicala painting of a shirtless, square-jawed man and a busty, full-lipped woman. Their hair was blowing in the wind and their faces were clenched in what Im sure was the artists interpretation of passion, but it kind of looked to me like the woman was about to hurl. Maybe thats how you feel when a really handsome, half-naked guy grabs you around the waist and tries to kiss you. I dont really know since Ive never been held by a handsome, half-naked guy, or any guy for that matter.

With a sigh, I closed the last book.

Forgery complete, I dumped the books into a shopping bag and slid my arms through my favorite little backpack purse. Thats when my phone buzzed. Two weeks ago Id set its alarm for 9:30 a.m. And every morning for the past two weeks, after hearing the alarm, Id rushed to the living room window. What was there to see out the window at 9:30 a.m.?

Him.

Its nice when you can depend on things. Like knowing that the newspaper would be waiting on the stoop, not that I read it, but its nice knowing I could if I wanted to. And knowing that I had enough milk for cereal and that I could eat that cereal while watching reruns of this reality show about a bunch of rich girls who get million-dollar sweet sixteen parties. And knowing that at 9:30 a.m., the boy on the skateboard would glide by my window.

I held my breath and waited for that whoosh of black hair, white T-shirt, and blue jeans to speed by. I first noticed him two Mondays ago when Id been checking to see if it was a long-sleeve or short-sleeve kind of day. It was one of those moments my mother always writes abouta rush of instant, powerful attraction. Sure, Id experienced it before. Lets face it, the world is full of good-looking guys. But this hit me hard, like a slam to the chest. And Id been going back to the window ever since.

A summer job must have kept him on such a precise schedule. I never opened the window and yelled, Hello. I never waved. Just watched. And I made up this story about him in my head. His name was Skateboard Guy and hed just moved to Seattle. He didnt have a girlfriend and he worked as a lifeguard at Alki Beach. One day, in my story, I go swimming and even though Im a good swimmer, I get pulled out to sea by a rogue wave and he saves me on his Jet Ski. Of course theres mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I was considering adding a vampire element to the story but hadnt worked that out yet. But, vampire or not, I was fairly sure that if he held me in his arms, and if he happened to be half-naked, I wouldnt want to hurl.

While the shopping bag of signed books waited on the carpet, I waited by the window, straining to see down the sidewalk. And then he appeared, right on time, rolling along on his yellow skateboard with its red dragon. With each stroke of his foot against pavement he came closer, his cuteness exponentially increasing. When he was in perfect focus, a smile broke across my face and I leaned against the glass. Skateboard Guy, where are you going? Will you take me with you?

Then he passed by, disappearing around the corner. That was the extent of our relationship. I suppose I shouldnt use the word our since he had no idea we were even having a relationship.

Red and blue jeweled shadows fell across my arms as I closed and locked the apartment door. A giant stained glass window crowned our buildings entry and when sunshine poured through it, the foyer looked like the inside of a kaleidoscope. When we first moved into the building I used to dance through the colorful shadows. But thats the kind of thing a five-year-old did. Forging my mothers name is the kind of thing I did these days.

Crossing the foyer, I slid on my sunglasses, turned the front door knob, and stepped into an unusually hot summer morning.

Hello, Alice, a cheerful voice called down. Mrs. Wanda Bobot, who lived upstairs, stopped watering her Spanish lavender and leaned over her balcony railing. Where are you off to?