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    No Right Turn
    No Right Turn
    No Right Turn
    Ebook141 pages1 hour

    No Right Turn

    By Terry Trueman

    3.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    I heard the gunshot and I knew what had happened. Even before I made it downstairs to Dad's office, I knew what he'd done.

    How do you live your life after catastrophe hits your family? How do you go back to football practice, or take a girl out on a date, or talk to your friends about normal stuff when nothing is normal anymore? Three years after his father's death, Jordan is still wondering.

    But then, salvation comes—in the form of a '76 Corvette. It's gorgeous, it's beautiful, it's incredibly sexy. And so is the girl who suddenly takes notice of him.

    Slowly Jordan realizes that maybe, just maybe, he can start living again. But the real question is: Does he want to?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperTeen
    Release dateJul 24, 2012
    ISBN9780062216984
    No Right Turn
    Author

    Terry Trueman

    Terry Trueman grew up in the northern suburbs of Seattle, Washington. He attended the University of Washington, where he received his BA in creative writing. He also has an MS in applied psychology and an MFA in creative writing, both from Eastern Washington University. Terry is also the author of Stuck in Neutral and its companion novel, Cruise Control; Hurricane; 7 Days at the Hot Corner; No Right Turn; and Inside Out.

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    • 4/5
      Three years ago something horrible happened to Jordan. Since then, Jordan has been what he calls a zombie. Now 3 years later, Jordan's mom starts to date a man who owns a '76 Corvette Stingray. The car makes Jordan start to feel like he wants to come back to the world. Trouble is that means talking about what happened 3 years ago and oh, there's the problem that the girl Jordan likes thinks the 'Vette belongs to him.

    Book preview

    No Right Turn - Terry Trueman

    ONE

    I’m walking home from school after getting off the bus. It’s the following Tuesday, and I go past Don Lugar’s house. In his driveway he’s polishing the Stingray. I’ve never been a gearhead, never cared that much about cars. It’s not like Mom and I have had thousands of extra bucks to burn on anything. So cars have never been that big a deal to me, and big-boy toys like Corvette Stingrays are about as realistic to me as … I don’t know … as nothing, they’re just something I know I’ll never have.

    My dad had always talked and acted like he hated muscle cars and cool classics—he called them show-off cars. Whenever we saw one on the road, he’d always say something about what a waste of money or he’d look at the driver, usually some middle-aged guy like himself, and mutter, Grow up.

    But there’s something about my dad that’s bugged me ever since he died. On the day of Dad’s funeral, afterward, everybody came back to our house to sit around and drink punch and eat cookies and try and pretend that everything was going to be okay. I couldn’t stand it, so I left the living room, where a lot of people were sitting and standing around. The kitchen was just as crowded. I didn’t know where to hide until I spotted the closed door to Dad’s office. I didn’t want to go back in there, I really didn’t, but I knew that it would give me some privacy. And truthfully, something weird pounded in my head—a strange feeling of being pulled toward that closed door and then on into the room. So that’s where I

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