The Way You Make Me Feel(75)

And as the sky turned a light lavender on the edges, pale pink in the middle, and then a deep orange near the horizon, you, gratefully, felt your littleness in the universe.

I looked over at the KoBra crew and felt so grateful for the small part of the universe I had.

We watched the sun set, quiet with our own thoughts. My head tilted back and my eyes closed as a cool breeze drifted over us. Summer was ending, I guess. It felt good, and it felt sad. I knew that things wouldn’t be the same with Patrick and Felix, and I was okay with that. I glanced at Hamlet and Rose, their gazes straight ahead, the last of the day’s light shining on them. It was startling how I felt about them now, how fiercely they mattered to me.

Yeah, I was okay with a lot of things.

When the sun dipped behind the hills, my dad jumped off the hood. “We should go before we actually get into trouble.” At the word trouble, Rose booked it after him.

I grabbed Hamlet’s hand before he could follow. “Wait a sec.” I watched Rose disappear into the truck, then looked up at Hamlet. It was dark, but my eyes adjusted and I could see his features perfectly. I had his face pretty well memorized now. Like the streets in my neighborhood, the pages of my favorite books. “We need to talk about what you said to me last week, before I left. Um, how you love me.” I was grateful for the darkness, hiding my blushing cheeks.

He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to—”

“I know. And I’m not ready to say it back.” Relief poured out of me, a weight that had been filling the parts between my bones finally lifting. “Is that okay?”

He blinked a couple of times, looking down at our feet. I held his hands firmly, and my palms were dry for once. After a while he looked at me and, while there was some sadness in his eyes, I believed him when he smiled and said, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

I squeezed his hand. “But you have to know … I’ve never said that to anyone before. Except my parents.”

“Really? What about all those ex-boyfriends?”

I lifted my hand up to the base of his neck and wound my fingers into his thick hair. “I never loved them. In fact, I never liked any of them as much as I like you. I think that’s why I freaked out. Not because you said you loved me. Just understanding the extent of my actual feelings for you. It’s really new.”

His eyes softened. His whole face, the edges of his body—they softened. Everything. “You like me more than them?”

I leaned my forehead against his. “Yeah. So much more.”

Catching my belt loops with his fingers, he drew me closer to him and said, “All right. I guess I’ll have to be patient. We’ll live on Clara Time. Not Hamlet Time.”

And then he lifted my chin, gently, touching his lips to mine. The kiss was sweet and full of promise. Like him. When he let go, I felt a lurch in my chest that told me Clara Time was going to catch up to Hamlet Time real fast. And when he climbed down from the roof, I took one last glance at the view—lights sparkling in the inky-blue night.

In this huge city, there were three people in this truck who mattered a lot to me. I’d protect that little part of the universe for as long as possible.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My first thank-you always goes to my agent, Judith Hansen, fiercest champion for any creator lucky enough to have her in their corner. I’m so grateful for your guidance and wisdom.

Endless gratitude to my editor, Janine O’Malley, and to Melissa Warten for their expertise and good humor while forming an actual book from this pile of swear words. Thank you to Margaret Ferguson for helping me shape this story in the very beginning and for everything before that. Thanks to the FSG/Macmillan team, including Elizabeth Clark, Brittany Pearlman, Joy Peskin, Jodie Chester Lowe, and Karen Ninnis.

For the research and eyeballs needed on this book, I’d like to thank Lisa McCune of Scratch, Louis Quezada of Border Grill, Suzy Yu, Alice Fanchiang, Cat Fanchiang, Chengzhe Zhou, Sophie Xiao, Charmaine Ou, Ben Zhu, Adi Alsaid, Lilliam Rivera, Nemuel DePaula, Nina Khatibi, Fernando Encarnacao, and Jennifer Li.

Thank you to Derick Tsai for being the Josh Lyman of my book life. Thanks to Willard Ford and everyone at SSG for turning me into someone who can fight with more than just her words. Thanks to #RetreatYoSelf. Bless our frosé and In-N-Out. Thank you to Rilo Kiley for letting me use your perfect words.

Thanks to all the librarians, booksellers, festival organizers, and lovely readers whom I’ve met over the years. Your support and kind words have meant the world to me.

So much gratitude to early readers Brandy Colbert, Sarah Enni, Morgan Matson, and Amy Spalding. You weren’t just readers but my lifeline during the wildest year ever. Keeping with this metaphor—thank you to Robin Benway, Anna Carey, Kirsten Hubbard, Alex Kahler, Elissa Sussman, and Zan Romanoff for keeping me afloat in our fair city.

Infinite to the Bog: Leila Austin, Alexis Bass, Lindsey Roth Culli, Debra Driza, Kristin Halbrook, Kate Hart, Michelle Krys, Amy Lukavics, Samantha Mabry, Phoebe North, Veronica Roth, Steph Sinkhorn, Courtney Summers, Kara Thomas, and Kaitlin Ward. Special shout-outs to Somaiya Daud, Laurie Devore, Kody Keplinger, and Stephanie Kuehn for the #accountability on this book. Thank you, hags.

It’s no surprise that families matter a whole lot in my books. Because mine is always there, filling the pages, even when you can’t see them.

For all the love and support, thank you to Kristi Appelhans, Tony Appelhans, Kira Appelhans, Tom Watson, Oliver Appelhans-Watson, Leah Appelhans, and Nate Petersen.