“Lunch is almost over now. I’ll go up to them tomorrow.” He started to walk away, but Allie grabbed his arm.
“There’s still fifteen minutes.” She wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. “Nate.” He locked his eyes on her. “You can do this.”
“I’m ridiculously nervous.” He held his hand out in front of him, and she could see it trembling.
Allie rested her hand on the back of his. She wrapped her fingers around it.
“On the count of three,” she said.
He drew in a breath. “One.”
“Two.”
“Three,” he said, and she dropped his hand.
“Go.”
She watched him walk across the quad and down the steps that led to the blacktop. He ran his hand through his hair a few times and adjusted his T-shirt. At one point, he stopped, and she wondered if he was going to turn around and chicken out. But he kept walking.
When he got close enough, he stopped. He said something, and Cory and Mark turned around. They smiled. And then they scooted over to make room between them.
Some dads teach their kids how to build a car; mine taught me how to build a computer. Back in Silicon Valley in the early ’80s, my dad oversaw and often worked on assembly lines, manually building the very first PCs. He often brought his work home with him, and when he did, I got to help (and make a little extra money). We’d spend hours out in the garage at night and on weekends, where he taught me how to crimp wires, solder them to the motherboard, and then test each connection to be sure it passed quality control. It wasn’t easy. My hands hurt after a while. And it was beyond frustrating when a component would fail and I’d have to take it apart and start all over. But honestly…I loved the work. And when he gave me a brand-new IBM 5150 and told me I’d built it, I was bursting with pride. So, thank you, Dad, for putting a soldering iron in your eleven-year-old daughter’s hands. You not only taught me how to build things, you taught me how to fail. And how to start over. And how to keep going until I eventually got it right.
I’ve wanted to write a book that celebrated my inner geek for so many years! In addition to my dad, I need to thank a few other important geeks in my life, like Ed Niehaus, who gave me my first job in public relations and taught me how to merge my love of writing with my love for all things tech-y. Thanks to Molly Davis and Stacy Pe?a, two of the smartest people I’ve ever met, for going on a great big adventure with me to start a business all our own. Every single day, I’m proud of what we built together. And to Mike, my very favorite geek in the whole world. We never would have met if it weren’t for our shared fascination with the tech world, so for all the amazing and life-changing experiences this industry has given me, I’m most thankful that it gave me the love of my life.
My kids inspire all my stories, but I see them in the pages of this one more than any of the others. I’d describe Allie and Nathan as strong, determined, bighearted, big-thinking, funny, and most importantly, kind. It’s no coincidence that I’d use those same words to describe my kids. Aidan and Lauren: Thank you for being exactly who you are. I love every little thing about you.
I’ve had a blast writing this book, and that’s largely because I got to work with a bunch of wise and wonderful people throughout the process. Huge thanks and barrels of popcorn to everyone at Disney Hyperion, especially Julie Rosenberg, for her brilliant insights, clear guidance, and superhuman patience; Hannah Allaman, for her many ideas that made this book much better; and to Emily Meehan, for her unwavering support and enthusiasm every step of the way. I’m not sure how I got so lucky to work with the three of you, but I never take it for granted.
The graphics throughout this book made it especially tricky to copyedit, but Mark Amundsen, Rebecca Behrens, Dan Kaufman, and Guy Cunningham paid close attention to every single detail. Thank you for caring about the big and little things.
Everyone on the marketing team is sharp, kind, and so much fun to work with. Thank you to Elke Villa, Holly Nagel, Maggie Penn, Sadie Hillier, and Andrew Sansone for all you do. Special thanks to Dina Sherman, who so passionately shares my novels with teachers and librarians—and thanks to those teachers and librarians who, in turn, so passionately share them with readers. You’re all rock stars.
I’m so grateful to my hardworking publicists Seale Ballenger and Cassie McGinty, for shouting from the rooftops about Click’d, and to Phil Caminiti for designing this super-fun cover that makes me smile every time I see it.
Now that my agent, Caryn Wiseman, and I have been together for six years and five books, I can say with absolute certainty that I couldn’t possibly do this work without her. I’m grateful for all she does, and so proud to be part of the Andrea Brown Literary Agency family.
And last but never least, special thanks to my young readers. Every time I meet you online or in the real world, you impress and inspire me. It’s an absolute privilege to write for you. Thank you for reading my stories.