Click on the sneek peeks below to read a short snippet from the book.
Sneak Peeks of Reasonable Doubt
“Your mom understands me better than anyone,” he explains “and I won’t be spoken down to by some skinny asshole kid who doesn’t get shit.” Wow: Nice to know what he really thinks of me as if the way he treats me wasn’t enough to go off.
“Just cos she understands why you’re an asshole doesn’t make you any less of one,” I say forcefully. “She loves you, and in return you beat the crap out of her.” I don’t see Joe’s fist flying towards my face, but I feel it’s impact as it collides with the right-hand side of my face. Time seems to stand still as I register what just happened.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asks. My heart falls through to my stomach as nerves threaten to attack every part of my body. It’s not like I haven’t kissed a girl before, I’ve kissed a few, but all of them were because I felt it was expected of me. With Julia I feel like it might mean a lot more. This is the first time I might get the chance to kiss a woman because I want to, so why for the love of god can’t I move my body? Julia grabs hold of my t-shirt and pulls me towards her. Shouldn’t it be me taking the lead here?
“Is it one of the reasons your mind was elsewhere tonight?” I groan, I have no choice but to fess up to coach about Julia cause otherwise he’s going to push for the truth about what’s going on at home.
“No coach,” I admit. “The truth is I… well…I… I got a date.” Coach’s eyebrows fly up and suddenly he roars with laughter. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I mean I respect coach more than anyone else but he’s being so rude right now. Then he stops and pats me on the shoulder.
“Sorry Robertson,” he says regretfully. “I wasn’t laughing at you having a date. I was laughing because I thought it was something a little bit more serious.” I nod and find myself suddenly grinning at him. I feel relieved that the idea of me having a date isn’t all that funny. “She pretty?” he asks. I nod flushing slightly red. “She must be to prove such a distraction,” he adds. I study coach’s face and he smiling widely, and I could be wrong, but I think he’s really happy for me.
“Mom, you can’t let him do this anymore.” She looks at me, trying to muster a smile.
“Do what?” she asks, trying to brush off my warning. I’m not going to let her ignore me though; I can’t. Not now there is too much at stake.
“You know what,” I reply, “Mom, he treats you…us like shit.” Mom flinches then puts the knife down and moves away from the counter.
“He has mood swings, he admits that,” she offers. “He’s going to the doctor next week and they’re going to help…prescribe him something for it.” I almost laugh; does she really think it’s that simple?
