"So what's your name, miss America?" He asked leaning his side against the chair, propping himself up with his arm. Oh god, his arm; tanned and toned. It took me a second to get it out. I'm sure he could feel how uncomfortable I was and I could tell he thought it was hilarious by the look of his crooked smile. "Um.... It's uh. Ju-Juliette. Juliette St. Cloud." Damn it, Jules, get your act together! It's just a boy for Christ's sake. "Ah, that's a beautiful name," he smiled, cheekily. "And yours?" I asked, hesitantly. Did I want to know this cute boy's name that would probably lower my grade in this class? I certainly did. "Ashton. Ashton Irwin." Juliette St. Cloud is finally leaving Hillview, Massachusetts and is entering her junior year of High School abroad in the one and only Sydney, Australia. On her first day of school, she meets the charming, hilarious, geeky Ashton Irwin in her Creative Writing class. She is attracted to his cheekiness, but doesn't want to fall too hard, knowing she'll only be spending the school year there. Will she let herself fall for him, or will she keep her distance to avoid getting her heart broken by the end of the year?

I suddenly felt Ashton’s body warmth behind me, his arms wrapped me holding me tight and close to him even if I did try to struggle, there was no use. He slowly raised his hand and a grabbed my right breast. I chocked on my water as I swallowed it. “Get your hands off me!” I demanded. He didn’t even listen, I placed my cup in the sink and I turned to him. He was holding me closer than ever. “I like it when you are feisty.” He smirked at me “maybe I should do this more often.” He then pressed his lips against mine but I pulled back. “You have zero chance with me, I hope you know that” I said quietly. He then let go of me and backed off a bit.

Det var snart en måned siden Ashton og drengene var taget af sted. Jeg var ved at blive sindssyg af tidszonerne, når jeg var vågen, lå han og sov. Jeg holdte mig i gang hele tiden, så jeg ikke lagde mærke til at han ikke var der, men om natten når jeg lå alene i vores seng, var det slemt, for der havde jeg tid til at tænke, tid til at savne ham. Jeg følte mig alene og savnede ham helt ubeskriveligt. Det var så mærkeligt at når vi snakkede sammen sagde han godmorgen og jeg godnat. Han føltes så langt væk når jeg sad der hjemme og ventede på at han ville ringe. Weekenderne var det værste, for der havde jeg alt for meget tid, at for meget tid at tænke i og huske.

"7:15, that's our time."