Edgewater (36 page)

“Really?”

“Really. There was something about you at the gas station that day—not just that you were beautiful.” I felt my cheeks warm. “But you were so . . . so self-possessed, and so unimpressed with me.”

“That's not how I really was,” I said. “Not on the inside.”

“That's all right,” he said. “I still want to be with you.”

“Won't being with me drive your mother crazy, too?”

“Maybe,” he said. He smiled again. “But that's not why I want to. Which may be a first for me, as relationships go.” He paused and took a breath. “I think about you all the time. I think about you when I'm sad about everything that's happened, which is almost always. And I think about you in between the sad times, when I have these bursts of feeling okay again.”

“That's when I think about you, too,” I said. “All those times.”

“So, what do you say, Lorrie? Do we get a fresh start?”

I glanced around at the front hall of my house—at the fountain, still dried up but now clean of dirt and grime, at the wood-paneled floors that had been stripped bare of their moldy rugs, and at the winding staircase that stretched up three stories—and I realized something: I didn't need a fresh start. It was all a part of me. It all mattered. And whatever else Senator Copeland had done wrong, he was right about one thing: You can't ignore the past if you want to step boldly, confidently into the future.

I shook my head. “No,” I said.

Charlie's face fell.

“Let's just pick up where we left off.”

Charlie pulled me toward him, wrapping himself around
me. I buried my head in his neck and kissed him, tasting him. My lips found his mouth. He was slow and gentle, and I wasn't scared of losing him. Of all the movies I'd played out in my head, the way it really happened was something I never could have imagined. But you can never know how the movie of your life will go. You just have to live it.

It was a long time before Charlie and I broke away from each other. “Come on, let's go,” I said.

“Where are we going?”

“You owe me a pizza date,” I told him. “And we're going to have to go out in public at some point.”

“All right,” he said. “You lead the way.”

I took his hand and led him out the door of Edgewater, and we walked into the future, together.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU:

To Laura Schechter, for her generosity, her unwavering support, and most especially for the “spark” of this book—“Hey, you should write a
Grey Gardens
YA, with sisters!” Laura, I hope I produced something that makes you proud.

To the YA writing community, for inviting me into the fold long before I had my own official YA book on the shelf. And to one YA writer in particular, my dear, sweet friend Sarah Mlynowski, who opened up the “writers' lounge” to me in the spring of 2011 and who has welcomed me nearly every day since: Thank you for everything. Thanks also go to my fellow lounge regulars: Elizabeth Eulberg, Jennifer E. Smith, and Robin Wasserman; to the Type A Retreaters: Emily Heddleson, Lexa Hillyer, Jess Rothenberg, Leila Sales, Rebecca Serle, and of
course Laura Schechter (look, Laura—you're in here twice!); to Adele Griffin and Erich Mauff, for the thousand ways they helped me get started; and to my Tuesday afternoon Writopia workshop students: You know who you are, and you are exceptional—infinite points to all.

To Altana Elings-Haynie, who introduced me to the real Orion; to her friends Rita and Chloe Callahan, who were the kindest hosts and the most patient teachers; and to the inimitable Regan Hofmann, who answered every last question I asked about horses.

To Isabella Carpi, Stephen Melzer and his son Jackson, Jennifer Michael, and Alyssa Siegel-Miles, whose anecdotes and expertise further informed the story.

To my friends who read the messy early chapters and helped me push through to the end of the book: Gracie Aaronson, Lindsay Aaronson, Samantha Aaronson, Fátima Ptacek, and Kai Williams. And to Meg Wolitzer, one of my all-time favorite writers: Thank you for reading every single version, for critiquing, for cheerleading, and mostly for being my friend.

To Arielle Warshall Katz, who is the model of the best friend in everything I write. To a few more essentials who put up with endless
Edgewater
-related discussions and who sometimes sent food: the Bressler/Shuffler family, Jen Calonita, Maria Crocitto, Erin Cummings, Jennifer Daly, Gitty Daneshvari, Julia DeVillers, Melissa Brown Eisenberg, Rachel Feld, the Fleischman/Tofsky family, Gayle Forman, Mary Gordon, Logan Levkoff, Melissa Losquadro, the Lucas family, Linda Mainquist, Wendy Mass, Lauren Myracle, Nina Nelson, Stacia
Robitaille, Jennie Rosenberg, Kieran Scott, Katie Stein, Bianca Turetsky, and Rebecca and Jeremy Wallace-Segall. And extra special thanks to Geralyn Lucas, whose generosity knows no bounds.

To Sam Droke-Dickinson, Liane Freed, Angela Mann, and Cristin Stickles, for their willingness to read and their extremely kind words.

To my family: my father, Joel Sheinmel (first-reader extraordinaire); my mother, Elaine Sheinmel, and my stepdad, Phil Getter; my sister, Alyssa Sheinmel, and my brother-in-law, JP Gravitt; and my stepsiblings, their spouses, and the littles who aren't so little anymore: Nicki, Andrew, Zach, Sara, and Tesa. If I had all the families in the world to choose from, I'd still pick you to be mine.

To Tamar Rydzinski at the Laura Dail Literary Agency, Inc., for her enthusiasm and her invaluable notes. And to the amazing Laura Dail herself, who knew instinctively the story I wanted to tell, who got behind the book in a major way, and who wouldn't rest until it was in the right hands.

Speaking of those right hands, to the brilliant, indefatigable Tamar Brazis, the editor of my dreams. And to everyone at Abrams/Amulet books, especially Orlando Dos Reis, Emily Dowdell, Jen Graham, Maria T. Middleton, and Nicole Russo. Thanks also to Kristen Barrett, Leslie Kazanjian, and Lauryn McSpadden for their careful reads of the manuscript.

To two women I never met, Edith Bouvier Beale and her mother, Edith Ewing Bouvier Beale, for being so staunchly themselves, and so inspiring.

Finally, enduring thanks to my grandmother, Doris V. Sheinmel, who was the most hardworking, uncomplaining, and extraordinary person I've ever known. Grammy, I miss you every day, and every day I try to live up to you. This book is for you. (I'm sorry about all the curses.)

With love,

Courtney

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

COURTNEY SHEINMEL is the author of
My So-Called Family
,
Positively
,
All the Things You Are
,
Sincerely
,
and the Stella Batts series for young readers. She lives in New York City.