“Oh, you do, do you?” I asked playfully.
“Well”—kiss—“I plan to spend”—kiss—“a bunch of”—kiss—“time”—kiss—“right here.” He threw both of our hats on the ground so nothing was in the way. When our lips were tissue-paper-width apart, he said, “That scar’s my favorite.”
He kissed it again.
I felt the kiss in my eyelashes.
Felt happiness.
If there was such a thing greater than happiness, I felt that, too. Peace, perhaps. Yes, I was definitely more at peace with the Sadie I was now—bangs and scars and T-shirts and forty-five-miles-an-hour driving. Not because Max kissed me or accepted me, or because I worked through my list, or because Gray hijacked my thoughts from Big, but because I wasn’t scared of my story anymore.
Sometimes the journey to let someone love you is the journey to loving yourself. I still had plenty more miles to go, but I had Pink Floyd, Tennessee, Idaho, and Max for company.
I had a feeling we’d get along just fine from here.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To God, who knows exactly how much I have in common with Sadie May Kingston. You love me when I’m stuck, when I’m scared, and when I isolate myself. You see my scars and my shame and you still say I am beautiful and redemptive. While I don’t always understand, I am so very grateful. Thank you for making art with me.
To Rosemary Brosnan, who also knows how much I have in common with Sadie Kingston. You held my hand in this project and during two very difficult years of life. If you asked for the ends of the earth, I would start walking now. (Well, after I asked you to point in that direction.) You are deeply loved.
To the entire team at Harper: Susan Katz, Kate Jackson, Annie Berger, Bethany Reis, Brenna Franzitta, Erin Fitzsimmons, Heather Daugherty, Kim VandeWater, Aubry Parks-Fried, Margot Wood, Kathleen Morandini, Patty Rosati, Olivia Russo, Andrea Pappenheimer and the sales team, and all the people who work behind the scenes to make great books.
Kelly Sonnack: Once upon a time this book started in a culinary cooking class, and two thousand pages later . . . it is about salvaging the wreckage of life and the power of truth. That is the odd journey we travel. I’m so thankful I never have to travel alone.
Before I get into my deep thanking lists, I should say this project had three huge turning points: 1. Batcave. 2. Patricia Riley. 3. David Arnold. I can safely say that I owe my sanity and finishing this project to all three. You impacted my work and my heart; I owe you. My mom isn’t a turning point, but she reads, edits, and encourages me tirelessly. I wouldn’t be here (or anywhere) without her.
To my accountability group and dear friends: C. J. Schooler; Katie, Matt, and Sam Corbin; Leah Spurlin; Brooke Buckley; Alina Klein; and Victoria Schwab.
To my critique partners: Kristin O’Donnell Tubb, Rae Ann Parker, Ruta Sepetys, David Arnold, Erica Rodgers, Lauren Thoman, Patricia Nesbitt, and Janice Erbach.
To my community: Sarah Brown, Paige Crutcher, Ashley and Sherra Schwartau, Dawn Wyant, Myra McEntire, S. R. Johannes, Jennifer Jabaley, Becky Abertalli, Ally Watkins, Kate Dopirak, Sharon Cameron, Jessica Young, Michael Smith, J. W. Scott, Linda and Kent Schwab, everyone at Batcave, the Lucky Fourteeners retreat group, Parnassus Books, Kim Liggett, Christa Desir, Jolene Perry, Julie Stokes, the wonderful people in the SCBWI Midsouth (What a group!), and my SCBWI LA conference friends from around the country and world.
To my LWC students; Crosspoint Church, Percy Warner Park, State Street UMC; Climb Nashville; Fort Walton Beach, Florida; Daniel Hilton of Sunset Beach Service; and Ballard County.
To teachers, librarians, media specialists, booksellers, bloggers, reviewers, podcasters, and fellow authors.