Instead of blue skies and sunshine, there are grey clouds and endless rain that seeps into your bones, your soul.

She's not my type,' Carter says.'So what is your type?''Tall, skinny, black hair, blue eyes, freckly nose. Blue tinsel wig and snowflakes optional.''Skinny?' I squeal.'Definitely. Pretending to be shy, sensible and stand-offish when really you're mad about me.''You sure about that?''No, but I'm hoping.