Read Love and Other Unknown Variables Online
Authors: Shannon Alexander
Tags: #teen romance, #social anxiety, #disease, #heath, #math, #family relationships, #friendship, #Contemporary Romance
Love and Other Unknown Variables (28 page)
0.8
W
hen Ms. Finch leaves, I notice she’s in Charlotte’s silver Civic with the dented fender. For a moment, I pretend it’s Charlotte pulling away. I tell myself that she’ll be back. She’s just going out for donuts.
It’s a nice dream, and short-lived.
“Charlotte, did I ever tell you about time travel?” I pluck a few blades of grass and shred them, my fingers turning green from the chlorophyll. “If you plot your life along the real line, it will encompass a finite space. We begin, move steadily in a positive direction, and end. The bodies we’re given aren’t meant to last forever.” I lie back in the grass beside her. In my mind’s eye, our fingertips are touching.
“Here’s the bit I never told you. The real line, and I mean the whole line—the line all of our lives and the life of the Universe itself can be plotted along—begins and ends in infinity. If you take that line and make infinity one point, the straight line becomes a circle. It’s never ending. Boundless. Infinite. Any two points in the circle can be connected.
“Scientists believe time travel is something like that, in its simplest sense, the leaping across from one part of the circle to another. If it’s true, everything lasts forever.
“Which sucks, because it means I will miss you forever. But it’s cool, too, because it means in my own stupid way, I get to love you forever.”
I don’t want to cry anymore right now, so I focus on my infinite circle and pull up a memory that has nothing to do with crying.
In the memory, the afternoon sun is sliced into parallel lines by the blinds in Charlotte’s window. We’re stretched out on her bed, Charlotte quiet, almost asleep, but she looks up at me, resting her chin on my chest, a question in her eyes, and I’m suddenly terrified I won’t know the right answer.
“Are you here because I’m dying?”
“No,” I say, my voice cracking, nerves exploding. I feel larger than every infinite set in the infinite universe, because I know the answer. “I’m here because I’m alive.”
“Good answer, Charlie Hanson. Good answer,” Charlotte says, stretching up to meet my lips. Our fingers tangle in infinite knots.
We kiss, forever.
0.9
I
’d like to say my story ends with the kiss, but it has no real end.
A beautiful girl once gave me an extraordinary journal. The infinite possibilities of the blank pages were so intimidating I almost left them blank.
But then, I didn’t.
1.0
B
eginnings are tricky things. I’ve been staring at this blank page for forty-seven minutes. It is infinite with possibilities. Once I begin, they diminish.
Scientifically, I know beginnings don’t exist. The world is made of energy, which is neither created nor destroyed. Everything she is was here before me. Everything she was will remain. Her existence touches both my past and my future at one point—infinity.
Lifelines aren’t lines at all. They’re more like circles.
It’s safe to start anywhere and the story will curve its way back to the starting point. Eventually.
In other words, it doesn’t matter where I begin. It doesn’t change the end.
Dear Reader,
Years ago, I sat in a hospital lab with wide windows that let the sun shine in, overlooking a green courtyard bursting with flowers. I joked with my friend, Em, as a nurse in full Hazmat gear hooked her up to a bag full of toxins. There was a small moment, tinier than a breath, where I saw fear flit across Em’s face, but then she smiled and the fear was gone, replaced with a joke to keep us laughing and the hope that one day, one of these bags of poison would hold the cure for cancer.
That moment defines bravery for me. And since then, I have tried to face my fears with laughter and a hell of a lot of hope.
My hope for you, readers, is that you find what you are passionate about—be it math like Charlie, drawing like Charlotte, writing, cancer advocacy, animal rescue, or unicorn needlepoint—find it and hold onto it despite any fears you may have. Fill your life with what you love. That’s my hope for you.
Yours with heart, humor, and hope. Always hope,
Acknowledgments
This story began with encouragement from my friend Emily Bright. Her beautiful life, laugh, and infinite hope inspired me to become a
Real
writer. Thanks, Em, for showing me how to be brave. I’m hopelessly devoted to you!
I want to thank everyone at Entangled who had a hand in bringing Charlie and Charlotte’s story to readers. Thank you, Heather Howland, for your enthusiasm, patience, and insight—and for understanding the importance of reaching 1.0. Thanks to Liz Pelletier, Stacy Cantor Abrams, Kari Olson, the entire Entangled Teen team, and the amazing Entangled authors who’ve been so helpful along this path to publication.
Huge hugs and bouquets of thanks go out to my wonderful agent, Jessica Sinsheimer. Our first phone conversation is plotted on my life’s number line thingy as one of my happiest moments. I can’t imagine doing any of this without you. Thanks to everyone at Sarah Jane Freymann Literary Agency for your continued support.
Every writer needs an amazing critique group like the YA Cannibals. Mike and Margaret Mullin, Jody Sparks, Robert and Sharmin Kent, Lisa Fipps, and Virginia Vasquez Vought, your critiques, support, and shoulders to cry on were instrumental in helping me tell Charlie’s story properly. Thanks for ripping my heart out, Cannibals! Josh Prokopy and Julia Karr, I’m so glad you’ve joined us for the fun and bloodshed.
For my friends that have been with me throughout this journey, the coffee is on me! I’d be lost if it weren’t for you (and the candy you gave me). Avery, Lisa, Ann, Devee, Tabbatha, and my Gwen, you are all irreplaceable. Cheers!
I have an amazing, insane family that I love to pieces. Thanks to each and every one of you. Special thanks go to Beth Weibust and John Kelley for reading a very early version of this story. Wait until you guys see what I’ve done with it! Bethann Wilkie, I’m the luckiest big sister in the history of ever to have such an inspiring little sister. Thank you, Mom, for teaching me the art of kindness. And Dad. Well, Atticus has nothing on you.
Finally, without the unflagging love and support of my kids and husband, I would never have had the courage to see this through. Thanks for being my own personal cheering section. I love you all more than anything in this infinite universe.
And to my husband, my heart, my Drew—I’m so glad I wore those hand-me-down jeans on that night long, long ago. You are the center of my circle.
About the Author
Shannon Alexander was compelled to write this story after the death of her best friend to ovarian cancer. She is a member of SCBWI and She Writes, and works as a copy editor for Sucker Literary, a showcase for new and undiscovered writers of young adult literature. She recently completed her seventh Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure in Washington D.C., and is an active supporter of cancer research.
http://wanderthewords.blogspot.com
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