Clara laughed. “I was offered a deodorant commercial.”
“Will you do it?”
Clara turned her head and gave her armpit a fake sniff. It was a gesture that only Clara could make charming, and everyone in the basement joined the hosts in laughter as she said, “We’ll see.”
The show cut to commercial break, and I looked around the room. The interview was over, but eyes were on screens: the TV, phones. A few people were talking in animated voices about how well she’d done and what else she could endorse.
Everyone was engrossed.
I pinched the back of Win’s hand and he elbowed me. Clearly we needed to work on our signals. I pinched him again and this time he looked over. I tilted my head at the stairs.
His eyes brightened. He rubbed his bottom lip like he was trying not to smile—but did he forget that every time he did that, I wanted to touch his mouth too? I’d remind him upstairs.
He flipped his hand over and I fitted mine inside.
If anyone asked, I was showing him where the bathroom was or getting a snack.
Lance and Lynnie had shifted closer on the couch, like they needed to make room for a third person, even though no one had taken them up on it. “I’m meeting with Ms. Gregoire about it tomorrow,” Lynnie was saying. “And I already have a feeling she’s going to assign me a book instead of giving advice.”
I paused, jerking Win to a confused halt. Lynnie’s face was turned toward Lance as she spoke. I couldn’t read her expression, but his told a full story. Whatever book Ms. Gregoire assigned Lynnie, I wished them all luck. Lance, Lynnie, and Penn—I wasn’t sure where they’d end up—but hopefully their journey was easier than ours.
Win squeezed my hand impatiently.
“If you’re going to make out, try the back porch, not the front yard,” Merri called as our feet hit the bottom stair. “My parents are sitting in the kitchen, and those windows give an A-plus view of the front stoop.”
“Short Stack, where was that helpful advice when your best friend and I needed it?” Curtis threw a pillow at her, but Fielding caught it.
“I think the side yard is better,” said Rory.
“And pretend you’re getting something from the car if anyone asks,” said Toby.
“You’re not actually fooling anyone when you two do that,” said Eliza, but she was quickly drowned out by everyone else chiming in.
And while I liked them all, valued their voices and sparkles and stories, was glad to have found my place in this group and would rival Mira in defense of any member of it, right now I valued Win’s most.
So while they bantered and bickered and tossed popcorn and pillows, I let him lead me up the stairs. He could choose whatever exit strategy he wanted, but wherever he went, I was ready to follow.
Being Win, he chose to blaze his own trail—one that was more direct and honest. He paused in the kitchen doorway. “Thanks for having us.”
Mr. Campbell stood and shook our hands, switching the one he extended so we didn’t have to let go of each other. “You guys leaving already?”
Win nodded. “We’re going for a walk. Huck might implode if I don’t get him some caffeine, and I might combust if I have to wait much longer to kiss him.”
I guessed raising a daughter like Merri meant being prepared for any possible combination of words, because the Campbells barely blinked before telling me, “I like this guy, Huck. Bring him around again soon, okay?”
“I like him too,” I said. Then we headed out into an afternoon bright with sunshine and possibilities. Shiny with the promise of coffee and kisses. I still might not know how many planets were in our solar system—but I knew the guy holding my hand was my favorite across all universes.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I first began daydreaming about a school where classic stories crept off their pages and a maybe-magical teacher guided her students toward their perfect book back in 2012.
Many years and four books later, I love these characters and this school like they’re real. It’s bittersweet to be stepping off the campus of Hero High and away from the lives of the Campbell girls and their friends. I’m the worst at goodbyes, so I’m struggling to close this final (for now!) chapter and express how much joy this series has brought to me or how grateful I am for those who’ve helped me along this journey.
Abrams, you’ve been a dream home for this project. Endless gratitude to Andrew Smith, Jessica Gotz, Brooke Shearouse, Marie Oishi, Brenda Angelilli, Jade Rector, Melanie Chang, Jenny Choi, Kim Lauber, Trish McNamara O’Neill, Nicole Schaefer, and Megan Evans. Anne Heltzel, you challenge me in the best ways and ask the perfect questions. Huge thanks to Michael Clark, whose mind rivals Sherlock’s in its attention to detail.
To Barry, who never gave up on this project, and Kate Testerman, who felt like an old friend from the moment we first met—thank you.
And to those who’ve walked beside me, you know who you are and I love you. Sherlock and Watson, Anne and Diana, Meg and Jo, Lizzy and Jane all have nothing on my Scott, Courtney, Emily, Miranda, Jessica, Annie, Lauren, Amy, Amanda, Jennifer, Stacey, Nancy, Tip, Shannon, Rae Ann, Carly, Claire, Kristin, and Kate.
To every reader who’s followed on this Bookish adventure: thank you. Those eight letters hold the whole of my heart. I hope you find your own Ms. Gregoire. I hope you find your book. I hope you feel seen, heard, and believed—and know your story matters.
Finally, my family: I couldn’t do this without you. St. Matt, you’re the reason I write love stories. Schmidtlets, you remind me every day of the power of BIG imaginations. Let’s promise to never grow up and never stop make-believing.
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