She glanced at the book I was reading. “Is that one of Mom’s?”
I nodded.
“Why are you reading it under here?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just feels better … safer.”
Her eyes narrowed for a second, but then she said, “Will you read it to me?”
We didn’t get far that night before we were both crying, but it was a start, and things got better every day after that.
Gisela tugs my arm to pull me out the door. “See you later!” I yell to Paige. She smiles. A big one. I’m so happy my dad was right about her forgiving me.
That’s not to say that everything is perfect. I doubt it ever will be, but I guess life never is. Dad has kept his job, but he still has bad days where he can’t get out of bed. Some days, I’m the same way. On those days, I like to read—I’ve reread every journal about a hundred times now. And Paige seems like she’s doing better too, now, but when Dad went on a date last month, she ran out of the house, slamming every door behind her and calling him names.
We’re still figuring things out. But when things happen now, we talk about them or we fight about them, and then at least they’re out in the open.
All those months, I wanted things to be normal again. Nothing will ever be the same as it was before, and I’m sure I’ll always wish things could be different, because I can’t ever be glad she died. I haven’t seen any more signs of her, and yes, I still look. But I feel closer to her now. We talk about her. We remember. In a way, I think I was right, though. I know what I did was wrong and all that, but maybe we needed to believe in her ghost before we could finally stop feeling haunted.
Acknowledgments
As a little girl, I wrote “Be an author” at the top every list of future goals I ever made. So I am gushing with gratitude for the folks who have played such an important part in making this childhood dream come true.
Jennifer Linnan, my literary agent, is my champion. I wonder if she has any clue how stupid I looked jumping up and down and dancing in my office the day I got the email asking to talk about representation. I still do that happy dance, knowing she’s the one in my corner, the one who believes in my writing, maybe even more than I do.
As if having an amazing agent isn’t enough, the universe blessed me with a meticulous but gentle editor. Fortunately, Adrienne Szpyrka has an attention to detail that I lack but a love for my characters that I appreciate beyond measure. Thank you to everyone at Sky Pony Press for your commitment to my manuscript and that amazing cover.
This book would not exist without the amazing fan community of a book about sparkly vampires. All those lists as a child, yet I never wrote a single word until my first foray into fandom. Heather, my fabulous frequent cowriter, unwittingly showed me how fun writing could be. Working with her kept me going even though I had no idea what I was doing. And the readers, my goodness, the readers who became friends and unconditional supporters. Stacey, Allison, Lucy, Katie, and Heather S., among countless others, you will always have my heart. BATgirls forever!
My growth as a writer depended on the feedback, critical suggestions, and intense support of a number of folks in various writing communities. Thank you to my Writer’s Village University and SCBWI Wisconsin critique groups who read so many of my words, always making them better. Thanks to Jessi for your support and encouragement throughout the long query process.
At its heart, this novel is about family and friends. Not only would this book be incomplete without them, but my whole life’s story is only worthwhile because of the people like Jeanne, Darla, and Rachel who are always there when I need them.
I offer heartfelt thanks to my parents who gave me a life of opportunity. My world is full of curiosity and acceptance because of them. I’m able to pursue this dream because they knew when to say “no” and when not to get in my way. It might as well be your names on this cover of this book.
I need to thank my kids for their patience. They put up with a lot of “Hold on a minute; I’m working on something” when I’m trying to write. Sometimes my fiction is bolstered by a few examples from their own lived experiences, so I apologize to them and thank them at the same time. They say publishing a novel is like having a baby. As happy as I am to share this story with the world, nothing gives me more pride or makes me feel more accomplished than being the mom of Grace and Faith.
If you’re reading this far, I have a confession: like Andie’s mom, I might be just a wee bit of a control freak. No one suffers as a result of my condition more than my dear husband, Bill. Thanks for putting up with my schemes and plans and schedules and novel dreams and just this overall crazy, full life.
About the Author
Tricia Clasen is a college professor of communication. She is coeditor of Gendered Identities: Critical Readings of Gender in YA and Children’s Literature and the author of several book chapters focused on gender in contemporary young adult fiction. She lives in her much-too-frigid home state of Wisconsin with her husband and two girls, her parents, and what seems like a small zoo. Most of her time is spent shuttling her kids to dance and trying to get the glitter off the kitchen floor as well as planning trips to much warmer destinations.
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