Puddin'(109)

Just as I’m about to walk outside, my phone chirps.

I expect it to be a text from my mom, asking when I’ll be home, but instead I find an email.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Word is the district is upping our budget for next year. It won’t be much, but it’s more than we had. Thanks for what you said at the budget meeting.

Melissa

Clover City High School Shamrock Dance Team Captain

I laugh to myself a little. I can appreciate the fact that she went out of her way to use the official team captain email address. Serious alpha-dog move. Maybe she’ll make a good captain after all.

I don’t know if Melissa and I will ever be friends again. It’s hard to say if what we had was strong enough to salvage, but after the last few months, nothing surprises me.

I run out the door barefooted into Amanda’s front yard, where Mitch waits for me. I stand in front of him with his arms wrapped around me.

“You got it?” he asks, eyeing my bag.

I lean against his shoulder. “Yup.”

Millie makes the rounds, saying good-bye to everyone, including Amanda—they share some kind of secret handshake and a tight hug—until it’s just me.

Hesitantly, I reach into my bag. This particular gift is not what I would call my best work. “You better not laugh. Hold out your hands. Close your eyes.”

She does as I say with a wide grin.

It took me six hours, three trips to the Crafty Corner, and a binge of the first few episodes of Parks and Rec on Millie’s advising. (She swears I’m the Ann to her Leslie.) But in the end I created the world’s shittiest cross-stitch. It’s no bigger than the size of my palm, and in simple black thread, it reads AUSTIN OR BUST.

Millie opens her eyes and gasps, swinging an arm around my neck. “Oh my goodness! It’s perfect! Did you make this yourself?”

I nod.

“I witnessed the whole painful thing,” says Mitch.

Millie giggles and claps her hands together. “I love it!”

I beam, blinking away a few fresh tears. It wasn’t so long ago that I was chanting “SAN FRAN OR BUST!” with all the Shamrocks. I’ll make it to San Francisco one day, I know I will. But for now it feels just as sweet to see Millie off to Austin.

I hold both her hands. “Message me every day. Promise me.”

“At least twice a day,” she swears. “And I want pictures of my nephews when you see them.”

“If I can get close enough without them biting.”

She laughs before pulling me close for a hug. We stand there in our matching bikinis, two girls whose friendship was never meant to be, but it is. It really is.

I watch as she and Malik get into the van and drive off toward Malik’s house, where they’ll have their own private good-bye. I certainly hope it involves lots of kissing.

I lean back against Mitch’s chest. Something tells me my night will end in some kissing, too. I don’t know if I’ll end up with a happily ever after, like in one of Millie’s rom-coms, but I am definitely happy for right now. And that feels pretty damn good, if you ask me.





Acknowledgments


I have many people to whom I’d like to express thanks, and in true Millie fashion, I will do so in the form of a list.

JULIE’S LIST OF THANKS

? Alessandra Balzer, my editor and ultimate cat-lady goals, you know when to challenge me and when to let me roll around on the floor, fussing, until I’m ready to move on. Thank you for everything, but mostly thank you for never leading me astray, especially when it comes to good food, pet products, and facemasks.

? John Cusick, my agent, who works tirelessly and cheerfully on my behalf, and I am equally thankful for both. Thank you for breathing new life into my career and for color-coding my life.

? Molly Cusick, my former agent and my friend, thank you for all the years you spent nurturing my writing career and for leaving me in very capable hands.

? Dana Spector, my film agent, who is absolutely ferocious.

? Caroline Sun, my publicist, who is always busy working magic behind the scenes. Rumor has it she can exist in two places at once.

? Aurora Parlagreco, Alison Donalty, and Daniel Stolle, who create my truly divine covers. Your work inspires me. Thank you.

? My whole huge Harper family, whose passion absolutely invigorates me, but especially: Donna Bray, Bess Braswell, Audrey Diestelkamp, Patty Rosati, Molly Motch, Stephanie Macy, Kelsey Murphy, Gina Rizzo, Maggie Searcy, Bethany Reis, Laaren Brown, Veronica Ambrose, Andrea Pappenheimer, Kathleen Faber, Kerry Moynagh, Heather Doss, Caitlin Garing, the Harper360 team, Kate Jackson, and Suzanne Murphy.

? The HarperCollins Canada team, whose enthusiasm and hospitality are unrivaled.

? My sensitivity readers for their thoughtfulness and care.

? Natalie C. Parker, thank you for always answering when I FaceTime and for reading a very early draft and for all the endless troubleshooting.

? Bethany Hagen, thank you for always staying up too late with me and never making me feel guilty about sleeping in. Also, thank you for all the reading and insights and for all those good secrets.

? Preeti Chhibber, Sona Charaipotra, and Amy Spalding, whose feedback proved invaluable. (And who are also just really funny, badass ladies.)

? In no specific order, I would like to thank the following people, who have made my life and my books better just by merely existing: Kristin Trevi?o, Veronica Trevi?o, Tessa Gratton, Jessica Taylor, Dhonielle Clayton, Jeramey Kraatz, Jenny Martin, Angie Thomas, Corey Whaley, Adam Silvera, Brendan Kiely, Justina Ireland, Becky Albertalli, Katie Cotugno, Zoraida Córdova, Jason Reynolds, Tara Hudson, Robin Murphy, Nic Stone, Jennifer Mathieu, Ashley Lindemann, Laura Rahimi Barnes, and Heidi Heilig.