Thirty Sunsets
3/5
()
About this ebook
Christine Hurley Deriso
Christine Hurley Deriso (North Augusta, SC) is an award-winning author of three middle grade novels. She has also contributed to Ladies' Home Journal, Parents, and other national magazines. Visit her online at www.christinehurleyderiso.com.
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Reviews for Thirty Sunsets
10 ratings4 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I wanted to read Thirty Sunsets because of the promise of a beach summery read (tired of the cold here) with some depth. Forrest is the main character and she is pretty easy to like. She is nerdy and doesn't quite fit in with the popular crowd but she has some close friends, and of course a crush. She used to be close to her brother, but since he has been dating Olivia, who Forrest does not like, they have grown apart, and she feels it is all on Olivia. He had dreams of pre-med at Vanderbilt but now he is wanting to stick around and just go to the community college. Forrest has dreams of him, where she is saving him, or she forgot about him while he is in trouble. It was kinda weird, because I haven't read much about that, and I don't really dream about my family much, but then again, I am an only child. Olivia was pretty easy to dislike, but Forrest is too in her interactions with her, or when talking about her. Forrest gets pretty sarcastic to her and rude at times. I get that Brian, the bro is making bad decisions, and Olivia does act like she is worthy of his worship but it all just feels like an interesting set-up. The family dynamics are interesting. Brian has thrown some of their "perfect" image type things out and they all don't speak about Olivia or their opinions about his decisions. So they are having to tip-toe around those issues, but seems to be even deeper than that one issue. I got into it when Forrest had a night with a cute guy and then he acted like he v didn't know her the next day. I began to realize that more and more her issues with Olivia were more sell esteem than anything. And when the two girls finally started talking and i realized what was driving Olivia and her real motives and reasons I was able to pull for her too. Speaking of boy... It went to show that Forrest was inexperienced. Scott had all the cheesy pick up lines, focused on her looks, ignored her in front of his friends, and tried to take things too fast. things went even more wrong there, but it helped her mom to finally open up about things that had been secret, and it got deep pretty quickly. I didn't mind, but it was just a different turn but the synopsis def leads that way. The ending took an interesting way out, and I am not sure how I feel about the conclusion. just fininishing it. I do like the way the family matters were settled and that it gave a small cute epilogue, but the Scott line... Not sure. Bottom Line: Worthwhile summery read with depth.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I would give this 2 1/2. This book is a quick read and pretty short. In fact I would say it's too short for all the drama that goes on. One bomb drops and another is waiting in the wings before the first one has settled. It just seemed like a whole bunch of events and not much joining them together, I found the book just didn't flow. Forrest goes from despising her brother's snotty girlfriend to them being bff's right after. I did love Forrests sense of humour. And I get she may be a little inexperienced and naive but no one should be falling for those nauseating lines of Scott's. Who talks like that? All I could think of was Seth Green and a movie from the 80's where he unsuccessfully would spout off similar lines. I think this book had way more potential than what was delivered. Many relevant topics that just didn't follow through.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Actual Rating: 3.5/5 stars
Sometimes, people show you what they think you want to see. They fool you. They don't show their true colors until it's too late."
This story is about Forrest Shephard (an odd name, really) and about how she's going to have the most unexpected summer ever. You see, Forrest disliked her brother Brian's girlfriend, Olivia. Ever since they started dating, she felt like she doesn't know her brother anymore. Then that summer, her mother invited Olivia to come with them to their beach house for a month. Little did Forrest know that Olivia is not really what she thought she was. And just about how secrets really has a way to creep out even though all we wanted is to hide them.
I liked Forrest. She is intelligent, funny, protective and fiercely loyal. The only downfall she has is that she thinks less of herself because no boy seems to like her. -_-
So when Scott, a boy she met on the beach, asked if she wanted to spend thirty sunsets with her, she was swept off her feet. Ugh, he's creepy and those lines he was saying? Eww. It made me want to barf.
Then something happened to our heroine but how she acted about it made me really proud of her. And she's brave to face it! I just know that she's going to be a great aunt!
"Mom, this is for you, too."
I knew that after this summer, she's going to be different and more mature. Sometimes, it takes these difficult things to push us to grow up, right?
The plot is great. I didn't see some of those twists coming. I've read a lot of YA contemporary stories like this one but somehow this offered something more.
I definitely recommend this to fans of Sarah Dessen, like myself. This was a great contemporary romance from a debut author.
**ARC provided by publisher via NetGalley in exchanged of an honest review. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Review courtesy of Dark Faerie TalesQuick & Dirty: Forrest was a funny and relatable character, and although quite a few “OMG”s were scattered throughout the chapters, this was a short, enjoyable read.Opening Sentence: “Hey, Forrest.”The Review:Forrest is not popular. She’s been stamped as the official geek, and when summer starts, she’ll finally be able to escape to the families beach house with her brother and his new girlfriend. But family secrets and surprising revelations plague the trip, along with a mysterious guy that may or may not be a complete jerk.This was an easy book to fall into. There isn’t much action, true, but Forrest is a great main character and has a relatable point of view. (Other than the frequent “OMG”s. Not a fan of the OMGs.) She knows her family has been hiding something from her, and her rocky relationship with her brother’s girlfriend isn’t helping to calm her down. Many times, Forrest has strange nightmares that show her that something is wrong, and I didn’t enjoy these much either. Her subconscious mind produced some weird things in order to get the point across, and they just weren’t really needed. But there were definitely some pros to this book as well! For example, I loved the title. The title was relevant to the boy she meets. I’ll leave it to you to decide if he’s trustworthy, because at first it seems like it could go either way. Scott is confident, witty, and knows how to charm a girl. At one point he makes a comment about this being the first sunset of the thirty they will spend with each other, and that’s the origin of the title. By the end, Scott’s true personality will come clear. I’m not saying if he’s kind or not either, read to find out!Now I would like to explain my feelings about the pacing and the ending. The reason this book got three stars was not because I didn’t enjoy myself or because it was badly written. It got three instead of four because of the pacing and ending. For one, the pacing was up and down, sometimes too slow, sometimes too fast. There was no in between. It made it sometimes confusing and I’d need to go back and reread a page or so. For example, the scenes that did have some action or some revealed truth were pretty quick, and the beginning of the book a little slower. The other main thing I had a problem with was the ending chapter. The epilogue was adorable, so kudos for that, but the chapter before made me roll my eyes. All of the book led up to this, and instead of twenty extra pages discussing how everything is resolved, something sudden and unexpected happens. It makes the end of the book seemed rushed and annoyed me. I wanted at least a solid chapter where things could play out more realistically, but instead I got a few pages with no thought-provoking paragraphs or unique new ideas about life or anything deep at all, to round up the story.Altogether, however, I am glad I read Thirty Sunsets. It’s a single book with no sequel and is great for someone wanting a contemporary to lie back and enjoy for a few days before diving into something action-packed or large. A book like this is cute and can hold your attention for as long as you need to read it. Have fun!Note: contains sensitive subjects such as rape.Notable Scene:“I’m sure you have plenty of people to share sunsets with.” I venture cautiously.“Maybe. But who do I want to share my sunsets with? That’s the qustion.”Another trick question? I honestly don’t know. So I ask him.“Who?”He stops in his tracks, loosely takes my hands and looks into my eyes. “you.”FTC Advisory: Flux provided me with a copy of Thirty Sunsets. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review
Book preview
Thirty Sunsets - Christine Hurley Deriso
still.
one
Hey, Forrest.
I look up from my Faulkner novel and push a lock of windblown hair behind my ear, squinting into the sun.
Hi.
Play it cool, Forrest. Play it cool.
Whatcha doin’?
Um …
I glance self-consciously at the book on my lap. Darn. The book might as well be a flashing neon sign: PROPERTY OF GEEK.
Is it good?
Jake asks.
I have to read it for a stupid class,
I lie, and hate myself for lying. But, for god’s sake, Jake Bennett, a senior, the senior I’ve had a crush on for two years, is talking to me! To me! Of all the things he could be doing during his lunch period (and why oh why did I pick today to read Faulkner during mine?), he’s smiling his adorable grin at me !
Jake glances at the space beside me on the bench I’ve chosen under an oak tree outside the school cafeteria. Mind if I join you?
I feel my face flush. Um …
Don’t blow this, Forrest!
Sure.
I sweep my arm toward the vacant spot in what I intend as a nonchalant do-whatever-floats-your-boat kind of gesture. But my arm sweep is too exaggerated, too clunky, the kind of gesture moms use to get their first grader’s attention in the school pick-up line. I’m such a loser.
But Jake sits down anyway, clearing his throat and running his fingers through a tousled lock of hair. His blue eyes sparkle in the balmy spring sunshine.
So … did you go to the prom last weekend?
he asks me.
Yes. Then I went to the Queen of England’s palace for brunch the next day.
No …
I say, wondering frantically whether that’s the right answer. Does not going make me a loser? Or does it signal that I’m available? I can actually hear my heart beating against my T-shirt. Did you?
Yeah,
he says. You didn’t miss anything. It was totally lame. The theme was ‘Midnight in Paris.’ The prom committee makes an Eiffel Tower out of Popsicle sticks, and yeah, I’m totally sold.
I laugh, my heart now actually fluttering. Here I spend the whole year worshipping Jake from a distance based on his studliness, and wonder of wonders, he’s wry and sardonic as well!
So the original isn’t made of Popsicle sticks?
I ask, then feel a wave of relief when he laughs.
You’re funny,
he says, and the heavens part as I sense that he considers that a good thing.
I gulp, hoping he doesn’t notice. This whole exchange is almost too surreal to believe. See, when I started high school last year, I actually thought I had babe potential. With my long blonde hair and hippie figure, people tell me I’m pretty, and my big brother’s really cute and popular, so I figured I’ve got a decent shot at high school fabulousness, right? But then I discovered that no, I didn’t at all. I was immediately sized up as a brainiac, and if the frizzy-haired president of the friggin’ freshman debate team would blow me off (which he did, by the way), then the odds of someone like Jake Bennett noticing me were approximately the same as my dreaming up a cure for cancer en route to picking up my multimillion-
dollar lottery prize. I’ve learned my place.
The rolled eyes of Olivia and the rest of the cheerleading team every time they see me in the hall glued to my brainteaser app have sealed my fate as Sophomore Most Likely to Excel at the Math Meet (which I did, by the way). But now, wonder of wonders, the cutest guy in high school is cutting through all the cliquish crap and seeing me for the incredibly nuanced babe that I am. I knew this would happen! My high school fabulosity officially begins now.
So … who did you go to the prom with?
I ask, aiming for casual.
Just a bunch of other guys,
he says. I’m totally unattached … but I’m hoping not for long.
Okay, my heart is now dancing the polka in my chest.
Yeah?
He blushes and smiles. Yeah. See, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but …
Yeah?
I prod, willing myself not to sound as breathless as I feel.
… but I noticed that Brian and Olivia didn’t go to the prom.
I stiffen oh-so-slightly.
Yeah … ?
Right, so, you know, there were rumors that they, like, broke up.
My stomach muscles clench.
Jake’s eyes study mine. So … did they?
My eyes narrow. I’m not my brother’s keeper,
I say, an edge seeping into my voice.
He furrows his brow. What? Oh, right. No, I didn’t mean that you … I just thought you might … oh, hell. You know what? I’m just gonna say it.
Please do. There’s still a sliver left of my ego to pulverize.
See, I’ve had a crush on Olivia for a while now,
he says earnestly, and yup, there goes that last slice of my ego, right into the blender. "I mean, I’ve dated other girls, but she … " As if on cue, his eyes seem to literally turn into silky puddles of lovesick goo. Adorable.
I clutch my novel tighter, the novel that I’m not being forced to read as a class assignment but that I choose to read because I actually have some depth, unlike all the other morons in this godforsaken school, and it’s a good thing I love Faulkner since he’s apparently the only guy I’ll ever hang out with.
And I’m totally good friends with your brother,
Jake continues, "so I would never in a million years screw that up, but if Brian and Olivia are officially broken up, then … "
I guess I’m staring into space. … and I didn’t want to ask Brian,
Jake blathers on, to fill the awkward silence, because, well, you know, it’s kind of sensitive, and he’s seemed really bummed lately, so …
Another pause, one that I’m evidently expected to fill.
They’re still a couple,
I say simply.
Oh.
Jake rubs his hands together, and I guess I could fill this awkward silence too, saying something cheerful or funny or consoling or cajoling or what-the-hell-ever.
Except that I don’t. I’m done with this conversation.
"Sooo … okay, Jake says, rising from the bench, clearly hoping we’ve shared the last nanosecond that he will ever have to suffer through again.
Got it. And, hey, Brian and I are totally cool. I just thought … well … hey, enjoy your book."
Two weeks. There are two weeks left of my sophomore year at Peachfield High School. After so many months of disappointments, humiliations, mortifications, and general crapfests, who would have guessed that my nadir would come so late in the year? Assuming this is the nadir. After all, I have two weeks to go … then two more years of high school after that.
Perhaps my slow slog through Loserville has only just begun.
two
O-M-Geeee!
Shelley says in a singsong voice, nudging me aside as she plops next to me on the bench, her strawberry-blonde ponytail bouncing as she settles in. "Was Jake Bennett just talking to you ?"
Yeah, we’re engaged now.
Shelley pokes me with her elbow. Tell me what he said!
I shut my book and sigh. Am I, like, hideous?
Shelley raises an eyebrow. He told you that you’re hideous?
I shrug. He asked if Brian and Olivia are still together. But I think the unspoken upshot was, ‘Oh, by the way, you’re hideous.’
"What is up with those two? Shelley asks, biting into an apple.
I heard they didn’t even go to the prom."
Yeah, I alerted the media.
Shelley eyes me warily. Wanna hear the rumors?
I roll my eyes. Brian and Olivia have garnered significantly more than their fifteen minutes of Peachfield High School fame since they started dating last summer. Their adorableness is apparently too precious to go unchronicled by the school wannabes, and the tongue-wagging went into overdrive when they blew off the prom. I’m starting to feel more like Brian’s publicist than his sister.
You know I don’t do gossip,
I remind Shelley.
Oh please.
I wrinkle my nose at her. Shelley’s been by my side since third grade to blow holes in my above-it-all attitude. Only she knows that I crush on cute seniors and harbor secret cravings to be invited to lame proms featuring Eiffel Towers made of Popsicle sticks. She knows I’d rather be in the game than on the sidelines mocking those who have somehow learned how to successfully nail it. She knows it, but it’s our little secret. I love that about her.
"The rumor, Shelley continues conspiratorially,
is that Brian still totally loves Olivia but can’t bear to watch her destroy herself with her bulimia, so, you know, he’s taking a break. The whole tough-love thing."
I bristle. Who says she’s bulimic?
"Uh, duh, Shelley says.
She barfs after lunch, like, every day. And have you noticed how skinny she’s gotten?"
My back stiffens. I’m not exactly president of the Olivia fan club, but that doesn’t mean I want people being snarky behind her back.
Shelley studies my scowl and says, "Whatevs. You’re the one who hates her for being your brother’s girlfriend."
See, that’s the thing: I don’t hate her because she’s my brother’s girlfriend. How petty and neurotic and borderline creepy would that be? I hated her before she was my brother’s girlfriend, and for totally legitimate reasons. I still remember the day I walked into chorus practice in a romper and she curled a lip at me. I know, a romper, what was I thinking? But god, did that curled lip sear my soul. I’ve been shlumping around in sweats, jeans, and T-shirts ever since.
Then there was the time I saw Olivia at a football game with some pretty blonde who looked just like her. I asked if they were sisters, and both of their jaws dropped. When I walked away, I heard this crazed hyena laughter echoing through the bleachers. I found out afterward that the sister
was Olivia’s mother. Hysterical, huh? It was such a thrill to know my idiocy made their day.
It’s that kind of thing that makes my stomach clench when Olivia crosses my path. Throw in the factoid that she derailed my brother’s college plans and I think I’ve got a pretty fair claim to an attitude. But I’m not the kind of petty, neurotic, borderline-creepy person who hates my brother’s girlfriends just on principle. Olivia earned it.
Still, I’m way too cool to let her know she gets under my skin. (My romper days are over.)
Hey, are you coming to Bri’s graduation?
I ask, eager to change the subject. Mom is having some people over to the house afterward.
Oooohh, is she making her gooey butter bars?
Shelley asks.
I’ll put in your order.
I’m in. I’ve got to fill my quota before you abandon me this summer.
I jab her lightly with my elbow. You know you’re always welcome at our beach house.
I wince at how pretentious I just sounded, and Shelley notices right away.
"Oh, please can I come to Spackle Beach? she teases, pressing her palms in prayer position.
You’ll never even know I’m there; I’ll hole up in the east wing and have your butler bring me table scraps."
I sputter with laughter. Yes, it sounds nauseatingly Kardashian-esque to lay claim to a beach house,
but Shelley’s been there enough to know that it’s strictly no-frills. The butler, for instance, is only there on weekdays. (Just kidding. We don’t have a butler.)
And yes, it’s on an island (a huge draw for us residents of landlocked Peachfield, South Carolina, a boring orchard grove turned mill town turned computer-parts mecca housing all of forty thousand people), but that’s where the glamour begins and ends. The actual name of the island is Sparkle Beach; Brian and I renamed it as a shout-out to Mom’s badger-
like tenacity, which in this case worked to our advantage.
Dad usually lets Mom have her way, but he put his foot down when she decided that we needed a beach house. Too expensive, too impractical, too much of a flood risk, too indulgent (Do you want our kids to be spoiled rotten?!?
)—he lobbed all of his most trusty artillery.
But Mom lobbed right back: it would be an investment. We’d never spend another dime on a hotel, cruise ship, or amusement park. Think of the tax breaks! The kids are only young once.
Dad probably would have stood his ground, but in addition to Mom’s arguments, her ace in the hole was having Brian and me jump up and down like banshees pleading her case. (We were happy to oblige.)
We finally wore Dad down, but with the caveat that we would not spend one more red cent on that &#*$ house than was absolutely necessary. We’d furnish it with our old tattered sofa and squeaky recliner; we’d decorate it with Brian’s and my crappy art projects; we’d eat peanut butter sandwiches morning, noon, and night.
Fine, fine!
we’d all squealed, scooping each other off the floor in ecstasy. Our own beach house! I’d never felt so deliciously elite in my life.
Mom’s been a good sport about making good on her end of the bargain. When Brian knocked over a space heater and seared a hole in the house’s family room carpet, Mom tossed an area rug on top of it. When I splattered nail polish on the wall, she hung a mirror to cover it, even though it was way lower than the eye-level height she prefers. When the tattered sofa started literally