Josie Little has been looking forward to moving halfway across the country to attend Brookwood Academy, a prestigious boarding school, with her girlfriend, Annette, for ages. But underneath Brookwood's picture-perfect image lies a crippling sense of elitism that begins to tear the girls apart from the moment they arrive. While Josie struggles to navigate her new life, Annette seems to fit in perfectly. Yet that acceptance comes with more than a few strings. And consequently, Annette insists on keeping their relationship a secret. At first, Josie agrees. But as Annette pushes her further and further away, Josie grows closer to Penn, a boy whose friendship and romantic feelings for her tangle her already-unraveling relationship. When Annette's need for approval sets her on a devastating course for self-destruction, Josie isn't sure she can save her this time-or if Annette even wants her to try.
About the Author
Jane B. Mason lives in Oakland, California, where she spends her time adjusting to her teenage children, open water swimming, and writing. Her most recent titles, written with Sarah Hines Stephens, include A Dog and His Girl Mysteries and the Candy Apple titles The Sister Switch and Snowfall Surprise. Without Annette is Jane's YA debut.
Read an Excerpt
From Without a Net I don't know why I didn't head back to my dorm. Maybe because Marina was standing between me and the door. Maybe because that's where we'd come from an hour before. Or maybe because I wanted to get as far away as possible and the dorm was right there, a mere stone's throw. Whatever the reason, I soon found myself at the other end of the main building, propping myself against the auditorium door and sobbing like a deranged lunatic. How did this happen? I asked myself, opening my fist and laying my palm against the smooth wood. I'd moved halfway across the country from everything I knew to be here with Annette, and now she was dumping me. Or was she? I wiped my face and leaned my forehead against the door, willing myself to think logically, to get a grip. Instead I got footsteps, coming down the hall behind me. Just what I needed another audience. I yanked open the auditorium door and slid into the quiet darkness. Autopilot led me to row K, to my seat, seven from the end. I slumped heavily into the chair, staring at nothing. Without Annette, I thought, my mind shifting the words into without a net. That was precisely how I felt like a tightrope walker a hundred feet above the ground, teetering dangerously with no net below.