Emergency Contact(91)

Her brain was short-circuiting.

Penny shook her head. To her horror, she was crying. “I’m not crying cause I’m sad,” she said angrily, swiping her tears.

“Which is it, then? Are you hungry? Or real, real mad?”

“I don’t know,” muttered Penny.

“Um, okay,” he said. “I don’t know where you’re at or what you’re thinking, and I don’t know if there’s a configuration of words that if I get right will make you see me differently.”

Sam wiped his hands on his jeans and continued.

“I know I relied on you for an awful lot when we were basically strangers. It’s because I trusted you and I don’t trust a lot of people. I’m like you like that, real choosy with humans. I was going through a lot of change and you were my emergency contact through all of it, even when I didn’t have a lot to give back. And it can’t have been a picnic, you know?”

Sam ran his fingers through his hair again and swallowed. “God,” he said. “I wish I could text you what I want to say.”

Penny smiled tightly and braced herself.

“I know I’ve been kind of a bum deal,” he continued.

Penny willed him to shut up. Just not do whatever he was about to.

“No, you haven’t,” she said. “You’ve been a real pal. I get a lot out of you. I trust you right back. You speak fluent me. I’ve got no complaints. I love . . . I like knowing that you exist. It doesn’t make me feel any less lonely, because life is lonely, but it makes me feel a lot less alone.”

“Jesus,” he breathed. “I got you something.” He rummaged through his backpack and handed her a mug. Inside it was a teddy bear wearing sunglasses, and he was holding a handful of daisies.

“What?”

“Right?” said Sam hopefully.

Penny started laughing. “Wow,” she said, turning it over. It immediately reminded her of Mark’s single red rose. She’d chucked it in the garbage on her drive back. It was clear, karma was a bitch and she was getting payback for the way she’d treated Mark. Sam was closing the loop.

Sam laughed. “It’s the grossest one they had,” he said. “And guess what?”

“What?” she asked him.

“Later, I’m going to make you a mixtape.”

“Wait.” Penny shook her head, still confused.

Sam was smiling. Penny smiled stupidly back.

“And then we are going to play miniature golf.”

The car dealership windsock in her heart stirred and began swaying in the wind.

“Or a hay ride, if you’d prefer . . .”

Her heart was dancing now. Full-on spaz mode.

“And then we’re going on a picnic and we’re going to make out the whole time,” he said. “If that’s what you want.” Sam cleared his throat.

Penny took a half step closer to him and cleared her throat. She was so excited she wanted to punch him.

“Yeah?”

He took the mug, placed it on her desk, and reached for her hand.

“Yeah,” he said. “And it’s going to be ridiculous.”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.


Whoa. I can’t believe I get to write acknowledgments. It’s wild. Meow.

Okay.

The first person I want to thank is Sam. IRL Sam. My Sam, whose tattoos I stole and who I love so much it makes me weepy. You are my favorite EC.

My family, for being rad and supportive even though I won’t hear the end of how I thanked Sam first. My brother, Mike, who won’t like being lumped in with my family. Yo, I’m SO glad we’re not lawyers.

My agent, Edward Orloff, who tore through this and sold it at a time when I wasn’t even sure it was a book. You give such good note and I can’t wait for what’s next. I hope I make you rich someday. Also, lol, you were SO RIGHT about not calling it “crazies.”

Zareen. I knew from jump that I wanted to work with you. Thank you for being singular in your reads and for speaking fluent me at all times. Our rants are so fortifying.

Justin, Anne, Chrissy, Lisa, Alexa, Mekisha, and everyone at Simon & Schuster. Oh, and Lizzy and gg, for a cover that melts my face. That rose gold is so clutch. And the hair! Swoons.

Marshall! You are my first reader. Always. And I yours. We are . . .

Anne, Asa, Suze, Rose—your eagle eyes and perspective are so valuable. Thank you for suffering the unceremonious homework dumps.

Jenna, for the walks, talks, teas, and the voice memos. So many vms that hold me down and keep my anxious brain from flying away.

Trish, the keeper of my time capsule and the OG EC circa HK. Love you.

Ubakum, Mira, Lara & Sophia, Ahmad—thanks for letting me hang out and for talking to me about how much space your phones take up in your lives. And Caitlin, for assigning the Wired piece that let me chill with teens in the first place.

Books are so wild and I didn’t get to write one until I had so much support. In no particular order thank you to my editorial families for keeping me fed. Noah Callahan-Bever, Elliott Wilson, SHR, Vanessa Satten, Brian Scotto, Choire and Balk, Adam Rogers, Isabel Gonzalez, Sarah Van Boven, Ross Andersen, the Mass Appeal squad, Complex, XXL, The Awl, Wired, GQ, The Fader (the Zeichner years), Billboard, The New York Times, especially the Op Ed desk. And Missbehave, for breaking my back and my heart but giving me my voice.