Catch a Falling Star

catch

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falling

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K I M C U L B E R T S O N

UNCORRECTED PROOF | NOT FOR SALE

Title: Catch a Falling Star

Author: Kim Culbertson

Publication Date: April 29, 2014

Format: Jacketed Hardcover

ISBN: 978-0-545-62704-7

Retail Price: $17.99 US

Ebook ISBN: 978-0-545-62705-4

Ebook price: $17.99

Ages: 12 and up

Grades: 7 and up

LOC Number: 2013029467

Length: 304 pages

Trim: 5-1/2 x 8-1/4 inches

Classification: Social Issues / Friendship

Love & Romance

An Imprint of Scholastic Inc.

557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012

For information, contact us at:

[email protected]

UNCORRECTED PROOF – NOT FOR SALE

If any material is to be quoted, it should be checked

against the bound book.

CIP information to be included in bound book.

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Copyright © 2014 by Kim Culbertson

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All rights reserved. Published by Point, an imprint of Scholastic Inc.,

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Publishers since 1920
. scholastic, point, and associated logos are trademarks and/

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or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,

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or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,

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recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

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For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention:

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Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

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Culbertson, Kim A. author.

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Catch a falling star / Kim Culbertson. — First edition.

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pages cm

Summary: Carter Moon is expecting to spend a quiet summer working in her

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parents’ restaurant and hanging out with her best friends Alien Drake and Chloe

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— but when a Hollywood ompany arrives to film a movie, her sleepy California

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town is suddenly transformed, and Carter finds herself playing an unexpected

part in it all.

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ISBN 978-0-545-62704-7

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1. Motion picture actors and actresses — Juvenile fiction. 2. Acting — Juvenile

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fiction. 3. Best friends — Juvenile fiction. 4. Friendship — Juvenile fiction.

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5. California — Juvenile fiction. [1. Actors and actresses — Fiction. 2. Motion

pictures — Production and direction — Fiction. 3. Best friends — Fiction.

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4. Friendship — Fiction. 5. Self-realization — Fiction. 6. California — Fiction.]

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I. Title.

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PZ7.C8945Cat 2014

813.6 — dc23

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2013029467

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Printed in the U.S.A. 23

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First edition, May 2014

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Book design by Yaffa Jaskoll

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for anabella,

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my sweet stargazer

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if my life were a movie, it would start with this moment. The scene

would open with one of those expansive overhead shots of a vast, for-

ested landscape, the bleached summer sky threaded with clouds. The

music would be something rumbling, like thunder, or maybe more

liquid as the shot found the curve of our river cutting through granite

mountains, its waters famous for their inky green swirl, reflecting al

the pine and sky. In that introductory, melting sort of way, the camera

would dip in, fastening to the yel ow line of the single band of a remote

highway leading into our small town tucked into the endless mass of

Tahoe National Forest, zeroing in on the passing of a road sign:

LittLe, CA

3 miLes

Next, the shot would pass that sign and slide into the slender

downtown of Little, California. My town. It would move along

the pretty pastel rows of Victorian shops and houses, the corners

of streets marked with wrought-iron lampposts, past gaggles of

people at outdoor cafés or leaning their bikes against storefronts or

waving as they crossed the street. It would highlight the way our

1

town had a sort of sunlit glaze in the summer, a slow ease that built

the slimmest of armor between us and the rest of the world.

In the movie version of my life, the shot would slow as a sleek

black Range Rover turned the corner and made its way like a

mirage up our main street, people stopping to shield their eyes

from the sunlight glinting off its perfectly washed windows.

The audience would know instantly that nestled inside that

air-conditioned car sat someone bigger than our small town.

But this wasn’t a movie.

This was my life.

And I still had three more hours before my shift ended.

My friend Chloe, though, could make any moment feel like a

movie. So Chloe would make sure to magnify it for both of us.

“Carter, that’s him!” she shrieked, clenching my arm as we cleared

dishes from the patio of Little Eats, my family’s café on the main

street of downtown Little. A half-filled cappuccino mug slipped

from her hand, breaking into two clean pieces on the cement of

the patio, the handle separating from its white porcelain body.

“Ouch, Chloe.” I unpeeled her death grip, quite sure my circu-

lation had been compromised. “That’s coming out of your paycheck,

not mine.” We watched the onyx car glide by, our café a watery and

strange reflection in its tinted back windows. In the front passenger

seat, a man in his thirties rested his tanned arm on the rim of the

window, tapping absently to music we couldn’t hear, his mirrored

sunglasses miniature versions of the tinted backseat windows.

The car came to rest at the stop sign right outside our patio.

“Do you think he can see us?” Chloe breathed, drinking in the

Range Rover’s idling purr.

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As if in response, the back window slid open, and before we

could blink, we had a full view of its famous passenger.

Adam Jakes.

Movie star.

Chloe gasped, her face going slack with shock. Framed in the

backseat window, Adam Jakes peered out, his famous blue eyes

hidden behind sunglasses. Everyone in the café patio stilled, as if

a mountain lion had entered a field and all inferior wildlife held

their breath. There, framed in that window, was the same tousle

of burnt-sugar hair, the symmetrical face, the same pair of wide

shoulders, the slouchy look of his mouth that always seemed to say,

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