99 Days(78)

“Thanks,” I tell her finally, swallowing down the sharp press of tears—it feels like there shouldn’t be any more left in me by this point. My insides should be dried up like a prune. “I mean it. Thank you.”

Tess shrugs. “Take care of yourself, Molly,” she tells me. She waves to me once before she walks away.





Day 99


My mom and I leave for Boston in the morning, the two of us hefting my packed duffel into the trunk of her car, plus the TV and my shower shoes and starchy extra-long sheets printed with tiny dots. “Oh, one more thing,” my mom says, then runs back into the house and returns with the biggest box of Red Vines I’ve ever seen in this lifetime, enough to keep me in candy for the entire semester at least.

“I went to Costco,” she says, and she grins.

I say bye to Vita and scratch Oscar under his doggie chin, then zip up my hoodie—it’s colder in the mornings now, the lake breeze tempting fall—and pick up my shoulder bag, doing one last mental double check for anything I might have missed. There were two texts on my phone when I woke up today: a pattern from this summer, maybe, but instead of twin missives from either Donnelly brother this morning, they were from Imogen and Roisin—good luck! and can’t wait!

“Ready to go?” my mom asks me, a hand on my arm as we stand in the driveway. I glance up at the lilac Victorian, then higher at the treetops. The sun is warm and yellow-feeling on the back of my neck.

“I am,” I tell her, and smile. I squeeze her hand once before we get into the car.





Acknowledgments


Oh, hey, this does not get any easier the second time. So many people make it possible for me to do this thing that I love so hugely, and every last one of you holds my heart and truest gratitude:

To Alessandra Balzer, for your keen vision and steady guidance—you make me want to be a better man, and by “man,” I mean “writer who is not in fact a man.” To Emilie Polster, Jenna Lisanti, Nellie Kurtzman, Caroline Sun, Ali Lisnow, Bethany Reis, Alison Klapthor, Andrea Pappenheimer, Kerry Moynagh, Kathy Faber, Ruiko Tokunaga, Susan Katz, Kate Jackson, and every other gorgeous soul at Balzer + Bray/HarperCollins for your unflagging support and general wonderfulness. I’m so honored to play for this team.

To Josh Bank, Joelle Hobeika, and Sara Shandler: I honestly just love the shit out of you. To everyone at Alloy—especially Les Morgenstein, Natalie Sousa, Liz Dresner, Romy Golan, Heather David, Lauren Metz, and Theo Guliadis—thank you. You’re champions of the world.

To Christa Desir and Julie Murphy, for your fearlessness; to Court Stevens, for your heart; to Jasmine Warga, for your insight and encouragement on these pages.

To the Fourteenery, who make sure I am never alone.

To Rachel Hutchinson, best and most, always and always.

To all the Cotugnos, for launching me onto this delicious, unbelievable flight path, and all the Collerans, for giving me a safe place to land.