But the second his face turns away from my ear, the impulse goes with it. My spine stops tickling and itching with want. My shoulders stop shaking. My heart stops flickering for him.
“You never told me secrets. You only ever told me crap,” I say. I whisper, too. I keep it low. I bat my eyelashes. His face falls, and he knows, he knows it’s true.
It feels fucking good.
Twenty-Eight.
I try to stop myself, but when I climb into my car and ready myself to go to the Cozy, I sign into LBC.
Except I can’t sign into LBC.
The site won’t load. My password doesn’t work. I’ve been blocked.
Sasha Cotton knocks on my car window and holds her phone up. Her screen is like mine. Blocked. I roll down my window and Sasha Cotton is crying, but the tears look to be a different size and shape than her usual ones.
“They’re gone,” she says. “We’re out.”
“We’re out,” I repeat, and although I suppose I knew that would happen, I thought I’d have the option of logging back on, if I needed it. I don’t cry, but I could, if I wasn’t swallowing so hard.
“What am I gonna do?” Sasha says. And she’s really asking me, not rhetorically. Her eyes are big, and she grips the window frame and bites her lip waiting for my answer.
“I have no idea,” I say. I’d like to tell her to ditch Joe. I’d like to tell her to stop crying and to confront her mom and to become friends with me and Elise and to not take weird photos in front of her house, and to toughen up because life’s really hard and you can’t go around sighing and weeping all the time, even if you’re Sasha Cotton.
But I don’t tell her any of that.
“I think we could be friends,” I say. “If you ever want to talk. Or hang out at the bookstore. Or whatever.” It’s probably the biggest thing I’ve done this whole time. I pat her hand, the one on my car, and give a shrug and a smile like Headmaster Brownser did.
“I’m not sure I like you yet,” she says, but I have a feeling she will, sometime. The girl from the margin notes would like me.
I drive away.
Straight ahead are the mountains. I thought they never changed, that they were the most predictable, solid, unchangeable things ever. But a little bit of snow has melted, even in one of the coldest months in Vermont. Cate and Paul love that those mountains are so dependable, but I have never been so happy to see the unlikely green patches near the white, snowy tops.
Little pockets of surprise. Unpredictable and hopeful. Acting of their own accord. Not answering to anyone.
Not a Secret:
Devon kissed me.
I assigned it to myself to kiss him again. And again.
And again.
Acknowledgments
An extra-large thank-you to Patricia McCormick, a wonderful advisor, mentor, and inspiration. Your encouragement, insight, availability, and kindness gave me the courage to write the first draft of this book and to keep working on it through creative and personal ups and downs. I am insanely lucky I got a chance to work with you and learn from someone I admire so deeply.
To Victoria Marini, spectacular agent and friend. You quell anxieties and hold my hand through disappointments and celebrations. You make both me and my work stronger. I’m so happy we get to do this together.
To my editor, Anica Rissi. Thank you for believing in this book and making it real. Thank you for pushing me to be the best writer I can be. Thank you for teaching me so much about craft and story and the magical other things that make manuscripts into books. You’re incredible.
Thank you, Katherine Tegen, Alexandra Arnold, and the rest of the team at Katherine Tegen Books. I’m astounded by the work and love you put into LBC.
Special thank-yous to very early readers of LBC: Brandy Colbert, Alison Cherry, Caela Carter, Sona Chairapotra, Amy Ewing, Mary Thompson. You shaped so much of this book and helped me see the light at the end of the tunnel. More thank-yous to other readers along the way, who pushed me and selflessly gave time and energy into this project: Alyson Gerber, Dhonielle Clayton, Lenea Grace, Taylor Jenkins Reid, Sarah Weeks, Jess Verdi, Riddhi Parekh, and the New School Writing for Children Class of 2012.
Thank you to my entire family for always supporting me, and especially Mom, Dad, and Andy for a lifetime of encouragement and book loving.
Thank you to Frank Scallon for listening, cheering, reading, and being all-around awesome.
As always, thank you to my incredible friends who build me up with love and fun and long, long talks when I need them. Special shout-outs to Anna Bridgforth, Julia Furlan, and Kea Gilbert. who are leaned on extra hard when things are tough.
And for all varieties of help along the way: Kalah McCaffery, Liesa Abrams, Bethany Buck, Red Horse Café, Victoria Marano, David Levithan, the Lucky 13’s, Ian and Nivia Dougherty, Mrs. Scallon, Jennifer Haydu, Ellie Haydu, Judy Ross, BookCourt.