There’s a card from Anna Priemaza taped to my fridge that says, “You can do it!” Anna, thank you for reminding me of this a billion times and for regularly pushing me outside my comfort zone.
Thank you to Evan Sedoti for making this one of the three books he’s willingly read; Susan Schoonover-Arguelles, who after a lifetime of friendship, has put up with more crazy scheming from me than Emily has from Hawthorn; Lucy Sanchez for insights into high school life and hippie wisdom; my dad for giving me his dark sense of humor; my entire extended family for always being ridiculously supportive; and Steve Conger for getting excited about this book when it was only a vague idea (also, for werewolf hunting with me).
For years my mom told me I should write a novel. Thank you for encouraging such an impossible-seeming dream, and for raising me to believe I could become anything I wanted to be. The pride I hear in your voice when you tell people about this book means everything to me.
My incredible husband, Steve Phillips, contributed more to this novel than I could possibly list here. Thank you for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself, for understanding when I ignored the real world for a make-believe one, and, on all those occasions I wanted to throw this book in the trash, for telling me to stop being melodramatic and keep writing.
Lastly, thank you to Joanna Bruzzese. When we were little kids, she was the first person to read my stories. She always insisted I’d be a “real” writer one day. More than anything, I wish she was here so I could hand her this book and say, “Look, Jo, you were right. I did it.”