A Summer Like No Other
Page 12
I simply want to understand.
I erase “I simply want to understand.” I delete the first lines. I don’t need to tell her my name. She knows me, she knows my name. She knows my entire family. She used to be my father’s secretary, after all.
I reread all the words out loud. Slowly. My voice sounds way too mechanic, too detached, and the words don’t compute. They’re not enough. They don’t explain the void I’ve felt inside ever since she slammed her door in my face.
When I thought about finding my birth mother, our imaginary reunion was full of smiling and hugging and talking and laughing.
Instead, my heart exploded in a thousand pieces that I don’t think I’ll ever manage to tape back together. I don’t think she could have run away from me faster than she did when I tried to talk to her last summer, and if she’d slammed the door of her car any harder, it would have been destroyed.
Like my feelings.
I tap my fingers on the desk, get up, sit back down, stare at the screen.
The memories of last summer scream in my ears. How Dad got tired of my digging around, of me asking questions. How my heart dropped at my feet and took forever to find its place in my chest again when he finally told me the truth. That my birth mother wanted to sell me to the highest bidder, how he bought me from her, how he’d been lying to me all those years.
I minimize the window and go into the folder I named “Truth folder.”
Over the summer, we—Nick and me—found next to nothing about Claire, but it’s amazing what a bit of money can do. So many sites gather information on people. And it doesn’t hurt that I found her social security number in Dad’s old office paperwork.
I reread the file. Her parents died in a car accident when she was young. She pulled herself and her little sister through college. She worked several jobs then, but after college seemed to be doing pretty well for herself.
The loud buzz of my alarm startles me, reminding me I need to do some stretching exercises. I close the document, then the folder. My finger hovers for two seconds before closing the letter without even saving it. Sending this letter would be stupid, ridiculous, desperate. I need one that might convince her talking to me is a must.
My alarm rings again and I reach out for my phone. It’s almost eight p.m.—Nata’s going to be back soon. Nick should be in his room now. Unless he’s out with another girl. Yet again.
The churning in my stomach hasn’t receded; it’s still as strong as the first time I saw him after breaking things off last summer.
I was running late. For the first time ever. I turned in the hallways to make it to our first school assembly meeting of the year and there he was leaning against the wall, Jen snuggling against him. I muffled a scream and fought back tears.
Two weeks before, his lips were on mine, his arms were around my waist, his fingers were trailing up and down my back.
They weren’t kissing, but it was clear they were back together. I had heard the rumors, I had seen tweets, but I didn’t want to believe it. We had agreed we would only have one summer together: one summer that was supposed to be easy. After all, the terms were simple: he didn’t want to have a relationship once school started because he wanted to concentrate on his career, plus with our parents not getting along and my brother breathing down our neck, it made sense to keep it limited.
I was not supposed to fall even more in love with him, I was not supposed to get my heart broken. I was not supposed to hope we would forget about the expiration date on our relationship and keep going.
But when everything went crashing faster than a dancer missing his or her landing, I still had hope. I dreamed that he’d come and knock at my door, that he’d tell me he was sorry, that he’d fight for me.
Note to self: stop being delusional.
“Hi!” Jen had called my name and waved with the biggest and most triumphant smile on her face.
Nick opened his mouth but he didn’t say a word.
We stared at each other. I thought I saw regret in his eyes, but most likely he was only squinting to figure out if I was mad or not. I swallowed my pain and my pride, and I waved at them. Like it didn’t slice my heart in two to see them together.
Whatever. It’s been eight months. I’m over it. And even if I wasn’t over it, I wouldn’t let myself get hurt like this again.
The only way for me to come out of all this on top is to get the starring role at this year’s showcase. I have the scenario in my head. I get the main part and I send another letter to my birth mother; she’s so proud she comes to see me. I get the main part and Nick finally realizes we’re right for one another. I get the main part and my parents look at me with as much pride as when Roberto told them he won a scholarship to spend a summer at MIT next year.
I stare at the dark computer screen.
I see my future. I see what I want, what I need.
I get up. My muscles tense and flex with determination.
This main part is mine.
ALWAYS SECOND BEST IS AVAILABLE NOW!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Wait. What? Did I write and revise and revise and revise and publish my third book? Wow! I can’t believe it! <3 This book came to me as I was drafting ALWAYS SECOND BEST, which also follows Nick & Em, but with a lot of struggles. The reason I was struggling was because I knew this summer had happened between them, but I couldn’t picture how it affected them, how it had such an impact on their relationship. So, I started drafting their summer and ten pages turned into twenty, into thirty, into more than a hundred, and it was a story that I fell in love with. A story that I wanted to share because I wanted you all to meet Em & Nick during that summer, and I really cross my fingers you fell in love with them—at least a little bit.
As always, a book—even a novella—is the work of dozens of people. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to write and publish. Like my copy editor Stephanie Parent , who helps make my words shine.
And, I am so thankful to so many people who make this writing journey unbelievable.
I am so so so so so grateful for all the readers, bloggers, reviewers who take a chance on my books. I really cross my fingers you fall in love with Em & Nick the way I did.
My husband—the Chemical Engineer—always sees a part of himself in the love interests (he’s totally right by the way), and believes in me, believes that I will make a living writing, and he enables me to do what I love. I don’t know what I can do to thank you! Well, okay, I’ll get you more Magnum ice creams at the store. <3
My family who is far but oh so close. I know I don’t get to see you often, but I know you have my back and I know that you believe in me too, and it means the world. And yes, I promise my books will be translated in French and German soon.
My writer friends, you know, the ones I turn to when I need my hand to be held or a gentle kick in my writing butt. You know who you are (I’m not naming anybody here because I am so afraid to forget someone it hurts).
Riley Edgewood and Katy Upperman, thank you for the chains of emails. Without your encouraging words, Nick and Em might not be real as they are today.
Tracey Neithercott, Alison Miller and Riley Edgewood, thank you for helping my blurb shine. It was nowhere near as good as it is now when it was just me fiddling with it—you made it what it is today.
Riley and Alison, I bake you all the cookies and give you all the wine and Riley, all the brie, for sending me such amazing feedback. Nick and Em wouldn’t be who they are without you. Your comments reassured me and pushed me to not only dig deeper, but also to make sure I didn’t cut any corners. And thanks to you, there’s also more kissing in the book. And I heart you.
To the #RSWrite ladies (Jaime Morrow, Erin Funk, Katy Upperman, Alison Miller), this writing intensive always helps me stay focused and in this case, helped me finish my book. Annnnnd to the ladies in the magic spreadsheet, the one that makes words come true, thank you for your encouraging words and the occasional kick in the butt as I was drafting A SUMMER LIK
E NO OTHER: Riley Edgewood, Lola Sharp, Tracey Neithercott, Jessica Love, Elizabeth Briggs, Jaime Morrow, Katy Upperman, Ghenet Myrthil.
To all my friends, near and far, thank you! Thank you for understanding when I’m holed up writing or revising. Thank you for your support and for everything.
More books by the author
Broken Dream series
ONE DREAM ONLY (Free)
ONE, TWO, THREE (Available now)
A SUMMER LIKE NO OTHER (Available now)
ALWAYS SECOND BEST (Available now)
LOVE IN B MINOR (Available now)
About The Author
Elodie Nowodazkij was raised in a tiny village in France, where she could always be found a book in hand. At nineteen, she moved to the US, where she learned she'd never lose her French accent. Now she lives in Maryland with her husband, their dog and their cat.
She's also a serial smiley user.
Visit Elodie online at:
www.elodienowodazkij.com
www.facebook.com/elodienowodazkij
twitter.com/ENowodazkij
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Also by Elodie Nowodazkij
Broken Dreams: Em & Nick
A Summer Like No Other
Always Second Best
Broken Dreams: Natalya' story
One, Two, Three
One Dream Only
Gavert City
Fear Me, Fear Me Not
See Me, See Me Not
Geplatzte Träume
Alles für einen Traum
L'Histoire de Natalya
Un Seul Rêve
Un, Deux, Trois
Nick & Em
Un été pas comme les autres
Une Seconde Chance
Standalone
Alles für einen Traum / Only One Dream (Zweisprachige Ausgabe: Englisch-Deutsch)
Eins Zwei Drei
Broken Dreams Box Set
Un été pas comme les autres - A Summer Like No Other: Livre Bilingue - Bilingual Book (French English)
Un amour en si mineur
La peur dans le sang
Love in B Minor
Un Seul Rêve / One Dream Only
La peur dans les yeux
Watch for more at Elodie Nowodazkij’s site.