It Started with Goodbye

by Christina June

  “This is what you want, Matilda?” Belén’s voice was firm, but I could see she was trying to be reasonable. She definitely wasn’t angry. Her lip wasn’t quivering this time, but I thought I detected a tear. Hearing how not one daughter but two had defied her under her nose had to be rough. I felt a little bad for her, but was impressed she was taking it so well.

  Tilly’s face broke out into a tentative smile. “Yes, Mama. I love it.”

  Belén nodded. “Well. Then we will have to do some additional college research.” She rose from the table, ending our family meeting, but then turned back to me. “I also think the website looks professional, Tatum.” To my surprise, she even smiled. I knew she meant it by the crinkles in the corners of her eyes.

  And, of course, I smiled back.

  Chapter 18

  The doorbell rang and sent a jolt of anticipatory electricity down my chest. I stood in front of the full-length mirror one last time, making sure my hair was behaving and that I didn’t have mascara clumps on my cheeks. As I completed my final inspection, I heard the front door open, and my dad called up the stairs.

  “Tatum? You have company.”

  I smoothed the fabric of my skirt, slid on my silver sandals, and carried myself down to the door. I didn’t want to appear too eager, but everything inside me wanted to bolt down the stairs and launch myself at the person introducing himself to my parents.

  As expected, I walked in the living room just as my dad was extending his hand.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Elsea. I’m Seamus Kipsang.” My dad and my date shook hands, and my dad, clearly pleased with the strength of my cellist’s handshake, smiled.

  “That’s a good Irish name, son.”

  “Yes sir, my mother is from County Kerry.” He turned to me and grinned, his sea-green eyes glittering. “Hi, Tate. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” I said, lashes down.

  Belén stood off to the side, arms crossed—she was still Belén, after all—but with a welcoming smile on her face. Seamus raised a hand in greeting to her and she nodded politely, her smile widening.

  “Well, we should probably get going,” I said, wanting to go before the magic spell of congeniality currently over my house broke.

  “What time should I have her back, sir?” Bonus points for asking about curfew. I wondered what time my dad would say.

  “You have your phone, Tatum?” Dad asked. I nodded. “Good, just don’t come in at the crack of dawn. We trust you.” I did my best to resist asking if he was joking, because by the easy smile on his face, I could tell he meant it. And he’d said “we.” Hearing that he and Belén trusted me felt a little bit like a fairy tale.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I kissed him on the cheek.

  “Have a good time,” Belén said as we walked to the door. I turned and looked her in the eye.

  “Thank you, Belén. We will.” There was no snark, no sarcasm. I meant it, and so did she. With Seamus lightly guiding me to the door, the tiny flutters that felt like hope and maybe happiness beat a cadence in my belly. Just as we were leaving, I caught a glimpse of Blanche, peeking around the doorway to the basement. She gifted me a knowing smile, and I gave her a tiny wave back.

  As the door firmly shut behind us, Seamus threaded his fingers through mine, and we walked hand in hand to his car. He led me to the passenger’s side and opened the door for me, like a perfect gentleman. I stopped myself from glancing back toward the house to see if my dad or Belén were peeking out from behind the curtains. I kind of hoped they were, though. They would see that Seamus was most definitely a good decision on my part. Fully parent-approved. He closed my door lightly once I was inside the car and came around to the driver’s side.

  “So where are you taking me?” I asked. I was dying to know what he had planned, but I was even more excited just to spend time with him. In person.

  Seamus started the engine and backed us out of the driveway, just as cautiously as Tilly might. Another point in the parent-approval column. “Well, as it happens, the revival theater downtown is showing Carrie. It was kind of like the night planned itself when I saw that.”

  My eyes widened, and a smile broke out on my face. “That’s almost spooky.” For the millionth time this summer, I couldn’t help wondering if Blanche wove some kind of magic spell over me to make this happen.

  “Spooky, but awesome,” Seamus said, grinning, as we left my neighborhood and started our drive into the city. “But before that, we’re going to the greatest burger place known to man, if you’re up for it.” My stomach rumbled in agreement, and he laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes. And do you want to know the best part?” His voice was gleeful, like he couldn’t wait to share a secret with me.

  “Yes, please tell me the best part.” I couldn’t keep the smile on my face from stretching to my ears.

  “Three words. Toasted. Marshmallow. Milkshakes.”

  “Sold. Drive faster.”

  When Seamus stopped at the last red light before the onramp to the highway that would take us to what was sounding like the most perfectly planned date in human history, his hand snaked around my waist and pulled me to him. He looked into my eyes with the same degree of longing that had captured my attention while he played. The flutters increased and, even while seated, my knees went weak. In one fluid motion, Seamus’ lips found mine, lush and sweet, and I kissed him back, intoxicated. Even all my imaginings weren’t as good as the real thing. When he pulled away, he kissed my forehead and exhaled.

  “I needed a hello kiss.”

  I giggled into the crook of his neck. “Does that mean no good night kiss?”

  “Of course not. If you play your cards right, you might get a middle-of-the-date-just-because kiss too.”

  “I hope so. I’ll do my best.”

  “Of course you will. How could you not?” He winked, and the light turned green, sending us on our way once more.

  When he parked the car in front of the restaurant, I grabbed his hand before he could get out.

  “Hold on a sec, I almost forgot something.” I reached into my purse, my fingers grazing the silver keychain, back in its rightful place, and pulled out the envelope I’d shoved in there that morning. Seamus looked at me, puzzled, but opened it and pulled out the card I’d painstakingly written that morning.

  Dear Seamus,

  I realized I never thanked you for my song. So thank you. For that, and for everything.

  Cheers to us.

  Yours,

  Tate

  “My stepmother is a stickler about manners,” I told him.

  Seamus smiled and blushed. “You’re welcome.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss into my cheek. “Ready to go?”

  I smiled and winked back. “I’ve always been ready.”

  “I believe that.” He chuckled and hopped out.

  Waiting for him to come around to my side, I sat still in the car for a moment, just letting the moment soak in. Everything I had been afraid of back in June was gone. My fears had been replaced with truths—about my family, my friends, myself—better than I could have hoped for. I felt as light as a feather.

  My door opened, bringing me out of my head.

  “Are you still with me, Tate?” Seamus asked, amused.

  I blinked at him, disbelieving that he was standing over me, waiting just for me, the object of so many of my daydreams turned reality. He was the exclamation point at the end of a particularly long and frustrating, yet ultimately satisfying, chapter in the book of my life.

  “Yeah. I’m good. Really good. Today kind of feels like the answer to a wish I made at the beginning of the summer.”

  “And did it come true?” The corners of his mouth tipped up in a slow smile.

  Nothing this summer had gone the way I imagined. But maybe it was supposed to be that way so I could turn the page and move onto a new, fresh chapter in my story.

  I smiled back. “Yes. It came true.”

  Q&A with Author Christina June

&nbs
p; 1. What made you decide to write a Cinderella retelling?

  I actually have a good story for this. I work in a school, and the Monday morning after the homecoming dance, I was walking into my building and spied an abandoned girls’ dress shoe—a sparkly, strappy sandal—laying on the side of the road. It felt like a sign that I needed to write a Cinderella story. But I knew I wanted my heroine to question the rules she was given and push back against them. Et voilà, Tatum was born.

  2. If you were a fairy tale character, who would you want to be?

  I have a young daughter, so most of my fairy tales come via Disney these days. Though I’d like a little more of Mulan’s bravery and Tiana’s drive and innovation, most days I’m an Anna—she’s awkward, but she’s got a great sense of humor—and I’m okay with that.

  3. What elements of the Cinderella were the most fun to work into the story?

  The glass slipper/keychain took a little while to figure out, but once I did, I fell in love with it. A lot of the smaller elements that got layered in during revisions were really fun too. For example, Tilly makes a reference to cutting off part of her foot. That makes me laugh every time I read it.

  4. Which character is the most like their Cinderella counterpart?

  Probably Blanche, our fairy godmother. Anyone who likes the Golden Girls and romance novels, is virtually psychic, and wins at bunco on the first shot has to be magical, right?

  5. Tatum is certainly not the type of girl who sits around and waits for her happy ending—she creates her own. What do you love most about Tatum?

  Tatum is me. Tatum is, in many ways, every girl. I love that she thinks she’s right so fiercely, but figures out that her father and stepmother actually might have had a valid reason for asking her to think about her actions for a while. Too harsh a punishment? For sure. They totally went overboard. But the reflection time was good for her, and even Tatum would agree with that.

  6. Friendship plays a huge role in this story. What do you think Tatum learns from her new friends and her friendship breakups?

  I think Tatum learns hope from Seamus, Abby, and Hunter. They accept her just as she is, and encourage her to pursue her art. From Ashlyn, she learns how to forgive. Even though they’re angry at each other, Tatum puts herself in Ash’s shoes and finds it within herself take the high road. I think they both come out on the other side stronger and more empathic.

  7. Do you have any artistic talents like Tatum, or are you living vicariously through her?

  Besides writing? Once upon a time, I sang second soprano in the school choir and was a card-carrying member of the thespian society. In tenth grade, I was in Oklahoma! and said, “Who’s going to be the auctioneer?” It was a big moment.

  8. Even though Blanche doesn’t have real magic, she’s the perfect fairy godmother. What’s the most important thing Blanche teaches Tatum?

  I love Blanche. She’s one of my top five favorite characters I’ve written. She reminds Tatum that things are not always as they seem, and that sometimes you just need to look harder to see the truth. Blanche also reminds Tatum to do self-care and be good to herself. It’s easy to forget that part when you’re stressed or caught up in something.

  9. If you could have dinner with one of your characters, who would it be?

  I think I’d like to have dessert with Blanche, Tatum, Tilly, and Abby, while The Frisson serenaded us.

  10. Tatum and SK fall for each other through words and music. What’s your favorite (love) song?

  Even before I wrote this book, I thought Sarah Jarosz’s “Tell Me True” was incredibly romantic. She captures the emotions when you know you have feelings for someone and you suspect they feel the same, but you’re waiting for the magical thing that confirms it. It’s the moment before the fall. It was the perfect song for Tatum and Seamus.

  My favorite love song, though, is Ben Folds’ “The Luckiest,” which my husband and I danced to at our wedding. I appreciate that Folds talks about how all your life experiences, no matter how rough, can be worth it because they brought you to the right person. And, if you’re lucky, you get to spend your whole life together. Obviously, Folds is another favorite of mine, as his music appears in the book as well.

  Acknowledgments

  There will never be the right words to express my gratitude to everyone who left a piece of themselves in this book. There are virtual hugs included in these pages.

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart:

  To Kevan Lyon, my very wise agent, for finding Tatum’s story captivating and delightful, and for always being the voice of reason. To Patricia Nelson, for all your support and positive energy.

  To my editor, Jillian Manning, for falling in L-O-V-E with this book and being my champion since day one. To the entire team at Blink. I couldn’t have asked for a more supportive, attentive, hard-working group of individuals to have on my side.

  To Melissa Donoghue, my oldest and dearest friend in the world. There’s no one I’d rather talk books with. Here’s to another thirty years of friendship, and then thirty more.

  To Amy Burns, my first writing friend, for loving all my words, even the terrible ones.

  To the BAMFs, I love you all. This book would be nothing without you—Katherine Locke, Leigh Smith, Rebekah Campbell, Rebecca Paula, and Sarah Emery. MTWBWY, and I wish you all the dresses with pockets.

  To Amanda Summers for putting up with, and also participating in, my nonsense. To Suzette Henry for your unwavering patience and enthusiasm—may our marble tables remain unbroken. To Esher Hogan, Jennifer Street, Diane Springer, and Alex Pou for your invaluable insight.

  To Olivia Hinebaugh, Lisa Maxwell, Heather Van Fleet, Angele McQuaid, and Danielle Ellison for your friendship, understanding, and general awesomeness.

  To Corey Ann Haydu for writing the book that made me want to make this one better.

  To everyone in YADC. I am in awe of your unbridled love for words. There are no greater book pushers.

  To my fellow 2017 debuts. It is an honor to be in your company, and I am thrilled to share this year with you.

  To the entire YA writing and reading community. You inspire me to do more, and to do it better.

  To my Pennsylvania and Florida family for always cheering me on. To Grandma for lending me your name.

  To my parents for saving every last poem and short story, for never saying no when I handed you a stack of books to buy, and for knowing I’d write my own book one day, even when I didn’t.

  To my husband and my daughter, my buddies. I love you more than anything. Thank you for holding my hand and dreaming the big dreams with me.

  And, to the girl who lost her shoe on the side of the road after the Homecoming dance. There would be no book without you.

  About the Author

  Christina June writes young adult contemporary fiction when she’s not writing college recommendation letters during her day job as a school counselor. She loves the little moments in life that help someone discover who they’re meant to become—whether it’s her students or her characters. Christina is a voracious reader, loves to travel, eats too many cupcakes, and hopes to one day be bicoastal—the east coast of the US and the east coast of Scotland. She lives just outside Washington, D.C., with her husband and daughter. Learn more at ChristinaJune.com.