Forbidden Boy

by Hailey Abbott

  Inches behind Julianne and her sister, their father wandered into the kitchen. Julianne could only assume that his jaw had dropped at the sight of their visitors as well. She wondered for a second why the still-silent Moores looked as shocked to find themselves on the Kahns’ front steps as the Kahns were to see them there. Hadn’t they had a few minutes to get used to the idea on their walk over? Julianne thought huffily. While we, on the other hand, were totally blindsided!

  After an utterly awkward moment of Kahns staring at Moores and Moores staring at Kahns in complete and total silence, all attention shifted to Remi. While his parents sulked in the doorway, he rushed past Chloe, nearly knocking her down again, on his way into the Kahns’ living room. He was carrying a large poster tube in one hand. Julianne recognized it as the mystery roll of paper from the little show she’d witnessed through the Moores’ window the previous night. Now, standing this close to it, she was a little disappointed in herself for not recognizing blueprints when she saw them. Did these people actually think they could walk into her home with plans for remodeling?

  “Remington! Come back here!” Mr. Moore snapped. He turned to Chloe, mainly because she was directly in front of him and said, “I apologize for my son’s rash behavior.”

  “It’s fine,” Chloe said slowly. “Your son is always welcome here.” Her voice was icy. “We have no problem at all with him.”

  Remi’s words came rushing out, rapid fire. “Listen, Julianne, I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but please hear me out. Mr. Kahn, Chloe, I know we’re the last people in the world you want in your living room but I promise you, this will only take five minutes of your time. Mom and Dad—I’m your son. We share DNA. You’re stuck with me. So just try to pretend that you wouldn’t rather be having a root canal.” He took a deep breath as everyone gathered around him with varying degrees of caution. He popped open the lid of the poster tube and started to unroll large sheets of paper onto the Kahns’ living room table.

  Standing across the room, Julianne felt her hands shaking. She glanced on either side of her—at her father and Chloe—and knew that she wasn’t alone in her anxiety. She cleared her throat, struggling to make words emerge from the dry, scared place between her heart and her mouth. “Um, what…what are you doing here?”

  “I have an idea!” Remi burst out. Then he looked up from his pile of papers and blushed in Julianne’s general direction. Julianne assumed Remi had noticed his father’s stony-faced grimace, because he now spoke in his best “project manager” voice. “I’m here to make a…” He faltered. “I’m here to make an official business presentation. I think you may be, uh, very interested in the schematic I’ve worked up for this afternoon.”

  Julianne feared her heart was threatening to pound out of her chest, with her stomach in hot pursuit. Instinctively, she reached for Chloe’s hand and was relieved to feel her sister squeeze back. A few feet away, tiny beads of sweat were forming on their father’s forehead.

  Remi seemed to have gotten his second wind. Crouched on the living room floor, hunched over his pile of papers, he was busily sorting and shuffling and occasionally clearing his throat. Finally, after what felt like years, Remi scooped up some blueprints, transferred them to the coffee table, and turned to his father with shaking hands.

  “Dad, I know that you’ve spent a long time, and a lot of money drawing up the plans for your house.” Remi’s voice had gained the tiniest edge of confidence.

  Remi’s father nodded severely. “You’re absolutely right. This project has been years of work in the making. Years.”

  Remi pressed on before his father could elaborate. “But, bearing all those things in mind, I have something I’d really like you to consider.” Remi took another deep breath and smoothed his blueprints out across the table. “I’ve been working with my boss at Dawson and Dawson on this all summer, and I think it could really work.”

  The room was completely silent as everyone held their breath, watching Mr. Moore lumber forward to leer down over the blueprints. Julianne could hear Remi gulping down air, but she couldn’t look at him. “It’s an alternative schematic for the new wing,” Remi continued. “Dad, I know it’s not your original plan, but I think you’ll find it interesting. And it’s totally eco-friendly. It would be groundbreaking—in a completely different way.” He passed the blueprints over his shoulder to his father, who had gone from looking annoyed to downright shocked. Remi’s mother took a few tentative steps forward to stand with her husband and glance over the blueprints. She stepped across the rug like she was trying to wipe something distasteful off of her shoe.

  “I know it strays from your original vision, Dad,” Remi pressed on. “But I think it’s still viable. Living on this beach is a dream you share with a lot of people—I know it was a dream for Mrs. Kahn, too. I, um, I think we have that in common. We all deserve to build our dreams with our families, and no one should be able to take that away from us.” He paused, shyly looking over at his father. “Maybe, this way, we can all have our dream houses.”

  Mrs. Moore raised her aristocratic—if slightly Botox-ed—chin toward her husband and then gestured back toward Remi’s new blueprint. After what seemed like a lifetime, she said, “I, for one, think this is lovely.” Mr. Moore slipped his hand around his wife’s waist and clapped his son on the shoulder.

  Nodding toward the blueprints, he said, “Well, Remington, the way you’ve worked solar panels in with the existing glass is very impressive. And turning that wing inward to create a contained beach garden that will be visible from the gym is a solid innovation.” He paused, and when he spoke again, his tone was a little bit softer. “I’m impressed with the refinement in your design, son. The sustainable fixtures are going to save me quite a bit of money.”

  The room, collectively, exhaled.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Julianne shuffled downstairs in her pajamas, stretching. It had been a few days since Remi had nearly broken their door down with his surprise visit, but she was still exhausted from all the excitement. As she walked into the living room, en route to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal, she noticed Chloe perched on the edge of the sofa. Her sister was holding a brilliant orange Gerbera daisy.

  “Oooh! What’s this?” Julianne squealed. “Did the new boy send it over?”

  “Nope, this one’s for you.” Chloe handed the flower to her very surprised sister. “It arrived this morning,” she said with a wink, before walking away.

  Julianne gingerly opened the note attached to the pretty flower.

  Julianne, I have a surprise for you. Meet me at 8:30 tonight, at the spot where you set up your afternoon easel. I’m a very temperamental note, so you’d better do it my way or my feelings will be hurt.

  Julianne laughed—she’d never had a piece of stationery make demands on her before. Her interest was decidedly piqued.

  By 8:30 that evening, Julianne was ready to burst with excitement and anticipation. She grabbed the flower and the note and headed down to the appointed spot on the beach. She thought about all the afternoons she’d spent in this exact spot, baking and squinting in the sun as she tried to recreate her mother’s light exactly. In retrospect, those had been some great afternoons.

  As she approached her destination, she noticed an easel—almost exactly like hers—set up where she used to paint. The top was draped in a sheet, and another note was attached. Julianne hesitated. So much had happened so quickly. They were staying in their house; school was starting soon. Did she really need any more surprises? Staring at the mysterious gift, though, Julianne couldn’t stand the suspense and finally leaned down and opened the note tentatively. Open me! was all it said. Julianne laughed, thinking that she certainly would have uncovered the easel, no matter what the note had said.

  She lifted the cover off to find a wrapped package. Then she went to work, gingerly peeling off the wrapping paper, layer by layer. At the end of all the unwrapping, Jules gasped. She squeezed her eyes shut and held the
m closed for a very long moment, breathing in and out slowly. But when she opened them again, Julianne was still shocked to find her mother’s painting—her painting—sitting securely on the easel, restored and good as new. Except it wasn’t the same landscape she’d painstakingly finished all those weeks ago. It was totally new. Much of the warped oil paint had been expertly restored, but in other parts, the mangled oils had been completely replaced. All along the painted beach, someone had worked in fragments of Julianne’s latest photo session. It was the same beach scene, but with black-and-white, color, and sepia-toned photographs mingling with the oil paint. At one end of the panorama, texture had been added with actual beach sand. Pieces of sea glass and crushed pearl had been pressed seamlessly into Julianne’s raging painted waves. It was absolutely amazing. It was one hundred percent Julianne while still maintaining her mother’s vision. Julianne could hardly breathe, it was so beautiful.

  “Do you like it?”

  Jules turned around to find Remi standing there. He slid down in the sand and wrapped his arms around her.

  “But…but, how did you?” Julianne managed to start.

  Remi smiled, his dark eyes shining at Julianne. “Your dad and Chloe helped. I came by without my parents and they let me take the canvas,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Julianne shook her head in disbelief.

  “I know a guy who restores fine art for some of Dawson and Dawson’s clients,” Remi continued. “Chloe gave me duplicates of your photos,” he added. “I hope it’s okay. I hope I didn’t ruin it.” Julianne could hear a tinge of concern in his voice.

  “Oh, Remi, it’s gorgeous!” she breathed, settling back into his embrace. “It’s a million times better than I ever could have hoped for!”

  “Well,” Remi demurred softly, his voice sounding shy all of a sudden. “I just thought that maybe—the same way the original painting was a combination of you and your mom—maybe this painting could be a work of art that you and I are both part of.” He paused. “Something beautiful that we’ve worked on and struggled with and built together.”

  Julianne felt her breath catch in her throat. She looked at the gorgeous picture in front of her—Remi was right, they had built it together. Then she gazed out at the beach and the ocean beyond the canvas and sighed happily. She leaned farther into Remi’s arms and knew that, a hundred yards behind him, her family was sitting in their beautiful house looking out onto the same beach. She and Remi had saved her home together and built something incredibly special in the process. Julianne turned. Looking into Remi’s huge, brown eyes she saw the reflection of the ocean as he gazed into her face.

  “Here’s to building more,” she whispered, as she pulled him into a kiss.

  About the Author

  HAILEY ABBOTT grew up in Southern California, where she split her time between creative writing and creative beaching. She is the author of THE OTHER BOY, GETTING LOST WITH BOYS, THE SECRETS OF BOYS, THE PERFECT BOY, and WAKING UP TO BOYS, as well as the Summer Boys books and THE BRIDESMAID. Hailey now lives in New York City.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  Also by Hailey Abbott

  Getting Lost with Boys

  The Secrets of Boys

  The Perfect Boy

  Waking Up to Boys

  Forbidden Boy

  The Other Boy

  Summer Boys

  Next Summer: A Summer Boys Novel

  After Summer: A Summer Boys Novel

  Last Summer: A Summer Boys Novel

  The Bridesmaid

  Credits

  Cover art © 2008 by Terry Doyle and Getty Images

  Cover design by Jennifer Rozbruch

  Copyright

  FORBIDDEN BOY. Copyright © 2008 by Alloy Entertainment. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  EPub Edition SEPTEMBER 2009 ISBN: 9780061971488

  Version 06212013

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