Just when Grace is beginning to get used to being an orphan, her estranged uncle suddenly comes forward to claim her. That might have been okay if he’d spoken to her even once since her father died. Or if moving in with Uncle Rusty didn’t mean returning to New Harbor. Grace once spent the best summers of her life in New Harbor. Now the place just reminds her of all she’s lost: her best friend, her boyfriend and any memory of the night that changed her forever. People say the truth will set you free, but Grace isn’t sure about that. Once she starts looking for it, the truth about that night is hard to find ― and what happens when her healing hurts the people she cares about the most? Marci Lyn Curtis, the critically acclaimed author of The One Thing, has crafted an honest and emotional story that will resonate with the wide range of readers impacted by sexual assault. Sexual assault does not define this story, however, just as it does not define Grace. Wry humor and true love emerge as Grace, like many in the #MeToo era, seeks to find her truth, face her truth, and speak her truth. Candid and emotional. A sometimes painful, memory-soaked portrait of grief and---most importantly---survival.― Jenn Bennett, author of Alex, Approximately Raw, gripping, and continually surprising. The Leading Edge of Now deftly balances heartbreak and humor.― Laurie Elizabeth Flynn, author of Firsts and Last Girl Lied To One of those rare, beautiful books that will shatter your heart, then gently put the pieces back together with its humor, honesty, and breathtaking writing. Marci Lyn Curtis has done it again.― Samantha Joyce, author of Flirting with Fame Helmed by a protagonist who is savvy, lost, broken, sarcastic and ultimately strong enough to create love in a world too often poised to break a girl, The Leading Edge of Now will leave you with a deep need to live life to the fullest.― Shannon M. Parker, author of The Girl Who Fell and The Rattled Bones While the writing is open and realistic, the author is also sensitive and shows both caring and understanding ...― CM Magazine ... a heart-wrenching, quick paced novel that's bound to drive you to tears.― Teenreads.com A raw but beautiful tale ...― YA Books Central Marci Lyn Curtis is a critically acclaimed author of young adult dramedies, including The One Thing. She lives near Tampa, Florida, with her husband. The Leading Edge of Now By Marci Lyn Curtis, Kate Egan Kids Can Press Ltd. Copyright © 2018 Marci Lyn Curtis All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-77138-999-0 CHAPTER 1 Here I am. Standing at the base of Rusty's front porch, where I've been for probably a full minute, trying to find the courage to move. Over the past couple of years, I keep having moments like these, where I come to a sudden halt, look around and ask myself, Grace Cochran, what were you thinking? The answer is always the same. I was not thinking. Sarah, my caseworker from social services, is beside me, watching carefully. Back in the day, she was a Troubled Teen on Drugs, but then she went to rehab and cleaned up and found God and etcetera, and now she's trying to make the world better, one troubled orphan at a time. Which probably explains why she's looking at me as though I might spontaneously combust. Having once been a Troubled Teen, she's in tune with such things. "Take your time," Sarah says. "It's probably a little overwhelming for you, coming back to your uncle's." "You have no idea," I say. Which is absolutely true. If Sarah knew what had happened the last time I set foot in New Harbor, she wouldn't be so keen on carting me back here right now. My heart races in my ears. The instinct to run is sharp and physical, as if some lunatic is coming at me with a knife. I close my eyes for a beat, trying to reel myself back in. Rusty is family, the only blood relative I have left, so as screwed up as it is, I belong here. This place is home — or as close to home as I can have right now. I breathe in deeply and drag my suitcase up the porch steps, both my bravery and my feet stopping before I get to the door. Sarah clears her throat, glancing at Rusty's house and then back at me. I have the distinct impression that psychoanalysis is about to occur, so I busy myself by idly swatting away a mosquito. Sarah starts in anyway. "I'm sure you'll fall into a routine here. Reacquaint yourself with your uncle. Rekindle some old friendships." She pauses for a moment, waiting for me to reply. I do not. I'd sooner talk about how sausage is made. "Your uncle tells me you have an old friend here," she goes on in a low voice, and then she elbows me, just barely. "Even a boyfriend, at some point?" And just like that, my lungs start closing up. I can feel my pulse banging in my ears, my fingertips, the backs of my knees. I imagine a field of sunflowers — something my therapist told me to do when I feel like I'm losing control. It doesn't help. Slowly, methodically, like I just bought my mouth and I