Relief flooded his face.
I’d spent months dreaming of Tommy, dreaming of seeing him again and kissing him. The second thing I’d done after I’d returned was look him up. I found his beautiful smiling face on SnowFlake. Everything had gone back to the way it had been before he’d disappeared. He’d been my best friend and boyfriend. And then we’d broken up. I’d wanted to talk to him since I got back, but I’d been too scared. Only, I couldn’t leave without seeing him one last time.
Yeah, I’d found Tommy, but we were traveling separate paths now. Maybe they’d merge somewhere in the future, maybe they wouldn’t. For the present we were on our own.
“I heard about Renny,” Tommy said. “He okay?”
“He’s good.” I glanced at his mom, waved. She waved back. “Your dad didn’t come?”
“Mama kicked him out. She’s divorcing him. Finally.”
“Good for her.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “I’m gonna stick around for a while. I got into FSU and got financial aid, but I deferred for a semester to help her get on her feet.”
“Maybe you could take my job at the bookstore,” I said.
“You quit?”
“Yesterday was my last day. I’m not going to be around much this summer, and then I’m off to UC Boulder in the fall.”
Tommy smiled. It was a wistful smile, though. I knew he was happy for me, but he was sad too, if that makes sense. I felt the same. Happy for the future, sad for all I was leaving behind.
“That’s great,” Tommy said. He bit his lip. “I’m really going to miss you, Ozzie.” Before I could reply, he closed the distance between us and wrapped me in a hug I never wanted to leave.
But I had to. I had to let go.
“Lua’s waiting for me,” I said.
Tommy hiked his thumb back at his mom. “Mama’s treating me to dinner to celebrate.”
“Take care of yourself, Tommy.”
I turned to leave when Tommy said, “Hey, Ozzie? You think we’ll ever find each other again?”
I nodded. “I’ll always find you. No matter how big the universe is, I will always find you.”
I took off without waiting for a reply. Lua was still sitting in the car. I shut the door and buckled in.
“Ready?”
“This is your show, Ozzie. Where to?”
Lua was looking at me, waiting for me to put the car in gear and drive. I’d stepped into the void and survived. The world wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but I think it had returned to the way it was meant to be. The universe was vast, and though I might have been just one infinitesimal part of it, the whole of my unexplored life stretched before me. I could go anywhere. I could become anything or anyone I wanted.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Somewhere we can see the stars.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Books are never written by the author alone. They’re written and published by a community. I’m lucky to be surrounded by the very best community any author could hope for, and words alone could never be enough to thank everyone. But here goes anyway.
Thanks to . . .
Amy Boggs, my brilliant, thoughtful, and tireless agent. I would not, could not, be here without her.
Michael Strother, my exceptionally talented editor at Simon Pulse, without whom this book would not exist.
The entire team at Simon Pulse and Simon & Schuster—who have given me a home in publishing and supported me far better than I deserve—which includes: Mara Anastas, Mary Marotta, Liesa Abrams, Faye Bi (who always gets me where I need to be and has the best taste in TV and movies), Adam Smith (my copy editor extraordinaire), Lucille Rettino, Christina Pecorale, Candace Greene McManus, Carolyn Swerdloff, Kerry Johnson, Sara Berko, Michelle Leo, Anthony Parisi, David Gale, Justin Chanda, and all the amazing and hardworking folks who make this job the best in the world.
Katie Shea Boutillier at Donald Maass for working so hard to help my books reach audiences outside of the U.S.
All the librarians, teachers, and booksellers who put books into the hands of the readers who need them.
My family for supporting me, but especially my mom, who keeps me company on my commutes and lets me ramble about my ideas and is the best cheerleader a son could ask for.
My best friends and first readers: Rachel “Pookie” Melcher, Margie Gelbwasser, and Matthew Rush. How they haven’t banished me to a parallel universe is beyond me. I love you guys!
The book bloggers and reviewers who spread their passion for books to every corner of the Internet.
All the readers who have reached out to me to tell me their stories and support these crazy books. I owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.
And, finally, I’d like to give a very special shout-out to Ryan Sousa, the first (and only) reader to guess the real intentions of the sluggers from We Are the Ants. Keep marching on!
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When I published my first book, I never expected that I’d wind up writing books that dealt so heavily with issues of mental illness, though I probably should have. If you know me in real life or online, you know that I’m not shy about discussing my own history with depression or my attempted suicide at nineteen. Those two things, more than any others, have influenced the books and characters I write.
One of the greatest aspects of writing for young adults is that teen readers can smell bullshit from a million miles away. You can’t pander to them, you can’t talk down to them, and you can’t sugarcoat anything. All you can do is be honest, which is what I try to do when writing about mental illness. And what that means is that the characters I write do not always make the best choices. In fact, they often make the very worst choices imaginable. They deal badly with their own depression. They’re fearful of doctors and the wrongheaded stigma attached to mental illness. They often make decisions I would never encourage people to make in real life.
Like Calvin, I cut myself when I was a teen. I was afraid to ask for help, and I didn’t know how to work through the pain and anger that had built up inside of myself. I used cutting and punching walls as a pressure-release valve. And, like Calvin’s, my decision was the worst imaginable. But I wrote Calvin as honestly as I knew how, not as a role model for how to deal with depression, but simply as a confused, messed-up kid.