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368 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 2008
"Ross was hit by a car, knocked off his bike. At the funeral the vicar had called it an accident. But somehow the word wasn't enough. It wasn't big enough, powerful enough--didn't mean enough. He hadn't spilled a cup of tea, he hadn't tripped over his own feet. He'd had his life smashed out of him. It felt like there should be a whole new word invented just to describe it."
"It's not really kidnapping, is it?" Kenny said. "He'd have to be alive, wouldn't he? For it to be a proper kidnapping, I mean."
Our friendship used to be a solid square, one of us to each other. Things were very different as a triangle.
"We phone each other every night, and send each other texts all the time too. It's not only when we see each other. Boys don't talk to each other about proper things. I know I can talk to my pals all the time anytime I want and tell them anything."
I knew there were one or two things I would never dream of telling Kenny or Sim. But maybe I would have talked to Ross about them. . . . "You're being a bit unfair, aren't you?" I said. "Okay, maybe we don't talk all the time, but maybe we don't need to. I know Kenny and Sim would be there for me if I need them. In fact, just today with that bungee jump? The guy who ran it was a total arsehole, but Kenny and Sim were right by my side all the time."
"I think Sim looked up to Ross more than any of us. And I bet if Sim could've swapped lives with someone, he would've jumped at the chance of being Ross for a while."