I wish I could tell Janessa about this bit of good that came from my messages to her, but she never responded to my final apology, so I’ve just left her alone, because that’s all I can think to do.
I press Play now on Sam’s video, and instead of a gaming video, it’s a heart-wrenchingly honest vlog about his skin-picking disorder and the ways it does and doesn’t control his life, and even though he’s only a couple of years younger than me, I want to lift him up like a child and hug him to my heart and never let him go. There’s so much in the video that I didn’t know—I barely even knew it was a mental disorder; I’m going to have to watch it a few times and maybe do some research to inform myself better.
When the video finishes, I scroll through its comments, and I wish I could say that they’re a nonstop stream of love, without a single “your ugly” or “that’s grooooooossssssss,” but I can’t. What I can say is that for every “your ugly”—and there aren’t many—there are ten people telling the commenter they’re out of line—sometimes through friendly reminder, sometimes through angry, curse-filled threats.
I wonder if any of those comments, whether aggressive or kind, will change even one person.
I wonder if my video of Cody will change even one person.
I hope so.
Across the room, Legs is scrawling “Be Awesome” across a postcard to mail to a fan.
“Good video of Sam’s,” I say to him. “I hope he feels encouraged by the response and doesn’t let the haters get him down.”
He nods and reaches for another postcard. “I hope the video reaches people who need to see it.”
“That too. You going to post about it?”
“I already did.”
I laugh. “Of course you did.” I start to push the laptop away, reaching for my history texts again, ready to memorize the facts and dates of the world’s biggest accomplishments—and its biggest mistakes. But then another video catches my eye. I click on it, and my big brother’s face appears on my screen.
“So, I got this email out of the blue,” Cody tells his viewers. “It was responding to my apparent inquiry about a dog at the pound. I almost tossed it into my junk mail, but then a picture caught my eye, and Codesters, just look at this beauty.” He leans down toward his offscreen feet, then lifts a fluffy brown bundle into his lap. “Guys, meet Lola.”
The four-year-old schnoodle in his lap looks up and licks his chin, and Cody laughs and wraps his arms around her. “As most of you know, it’s been a rough month. But Miss Lola here, she makes life so much better. So thank you. Whichever of you Codesters sent that first email, I’m forever in your debt.”
I stop the video and swallow back the lump in my throat. Stare at my brother’s happy face looking back at me.
“Do you think he knows it was you?” Legs asks from across the room.
I think of my last phone call with Cody, where he threw every swear word in existence at me before I finally gave up and hung up on him. “No,” I say. “He probably thinks I only want him to suffer. But I don’t want him to be miserable. I only want him to learn something.” I only want him to be better.
Legs uncaps his Sharpie and starts writing “Be Awesome” for the ten thousandth time. “We’re changing this broken world one day at a time,” he says.
And I nod. Because at the very least, no one can ever say we didn’t try.
Author’s Note
IN 2013, WHEN I LEARNED THAT SKIN-PICKING DISORDER HAD BEEN CLASSIFIED as its own mental disorder related to OCD, I wept. I had spent over a decade overwhelmingly frustrated by the “bad habit” that I couldn’t seem to quit. I had literally hit myself, yelled at myself, and tried dozens of habit-breaking strategies. All I had to show for it were the hundreds of scars that litter my shoulders and back.
Now, with the help of cognitive behavioral therapy, fidget toys, and more knowledge, things are better. And by better, I don’t mean cured. I still pick at my skin, but less often, and I don’t feel as out of control. And more important, I’m kinder to myself now, and more understanding.
Skin-picking disorder is not well known as a disorder. If in reading this book you’ve realized that it’s something you might do or struggle with, I recommend that you check out bfrb.org, which is the website for the TLC Foundation for Body-Focused Repetitive Behaviors and a tremendous resource for skin pickers, hair pullers, and their families. They have information, webinars, and a community of people like us.
And finally: please be kind to yourself. And know that you’re not alone.
Acknowledgments
I WROTE AND REVISED THIS BOOK DURING ONE OF THE HARDEST YEARS OF MY life. That makes these acknowledgments difficult to write—not because of the hardship, but because I feel such an overwhelming outpouring of gratitude toward those who were there for me and my husband that words feel so inadequate. Of course, I could just focus these acknowledgments on those who did concrete work on this book, but let’s be real: I’d never have finished this book without the support of those in my day-to-day life.
There is a reason I write books about friendship and family. Because they are such powerful forces that I feel lucky to have in my life. Because friends and family brought and ordered us meals, sat with me and rubbed my back while I cried, went to the hospital, cleaned the house, listened when I needed to talk, talked when I needed to listen, and sent emails and notes and love.
And so I’m beyond grateful to Mom, Dad, Will and Anyu, and Em and Dan and my darling Dewi and Avery. I’m grateful to the Moses family and the Slofstra family. To Lance Priemaza, Laura Geddes, Erin Dawson, and Caitie Flum. To Craig, Lee, Matthieu, Josh, Devin and Alana and Oakley, Ben and Heather, Pat and Daniela, Lillian and Paul, Chris, Ivan, Brad, Angus, Alex, Sean, Colin, Stephen, Kevin and Cara, Seyi and Bukola, Chuba and Joy, Murray and Pat, everyone at McCuaig, and the rest of our friends and family.
I’m grateful for and so lucky to have my writer family, which helps get me through each day: Katelyn, Kristine (K), Marley, Rachel, Jo, Chelsea, Josh, Greg, Leann, Morgan, Tasha, Katie, Jess, Phillip, and Annie.
I’m thankful for the support and friendship of other authors, especially Emily Bain Murphy, Jilly Gagnon, Bree Barton, Isabel Van Wyk, Kayla Olson, Tanaz Bhathena, Carlie Sorosiak, Lianne Oelke, Faith Boughan, Gareth Wronski, Kristen Ciccarelli, Kate Watson, Stephanie Elliot, Keira Drake, Kristen Orlando, Heather Kaczynski, Amy Giles, and so many others.
And I’m beyond thankful to have Lorne Priemaza beside me as a supportive and loving partner and husband through it all.
And then, of course, there are those who’ve worked on this book specifically.
Thank you to Morgan Messing, who invented the Legends of the Stone logo and made it come alive for me. I am so grateful to all my early readers. To Mom, whose excitement to read always makes me more excited to write. To Katelyn Larson, whose name might have been cut from a draft of this book, but whose hand exists in every scene, especially the nerdiest ones. To Cale Dietrich, who reminded me that characters being siblings makes everything more complicated, especially revenge. To Greg Andree and Josh Hlibichuk, who helped me figure out the right number of times for Sam to refer to his own dick. To Marley Teter, who hates reading about dicks but who helped me turn Cody into more of one. To Emily Bain Murphy, who gave Cody a dog and gives me so much more. And to Chelsea Sedoti, whose kind feedback was a light whenever I felt the darkness of doubt.
I’m thankful for the valuable insight of my editor, Stephanie Stein, who always gives me the time I need to get things done. And for the rest of the awesome team at HarperTeen, including editorial assistant Louisa Currigan; Michelle Taormina in design; Renée Cafiero and Megan Gendell in copy editing, who always help save me from making a fool of myself; Bess Braswell and Shannon Cox in marketing; Kadeen Griffiths in publicity; and Erin Wallace and Kristen Eckhardt in production. I feel very lucky to be a Canadian and to have the support of Maeve O’Regan and Ashley Posluns at HarperCollins Canada, whose promotion and help I’m eternally grat
eful for.
I’m grateful to my stellar agent, Lauren Abramo, who I compulsively brag about to everyone, because she’s just that great. And to the rest of the team at Dystel, Goderich and Bourret, especially including Mike Hoogland, Kemi Faderin, and Sharon Pelletier.
And of course, I’m so unbelievably grateful to readers, who bring so much light to my life with their emails and reviews and tweets and bookstagrams and love. You, dear reader, are the very best. Thank you!
About the Author
Courtesy Anna Priemaza
ANNA PRIEMAZA is a young adult author and a practicing lawyer in Edmonton, Alberta, where she lives with her husband. She can never quite remember how old she is, as she knits like an old lady, practices law like an adult, fangirls over YouTubers like a teen, and dreams like a child. She is also the author of Kat and Meg Conquer the World. Visit her online at www.annapriemaza.com or on Twitter @annab311a.
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Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
FAN THE FAME. Copyright © 2019 by Anna Priemaza. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Digital Edition AUGUST 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-256086-5
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-256084-1
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