“I can’t believe everything’s changing so fast,” Phoebe said, softly.
“Change sucks, but change is good,” Em said, slipping onto the same bench as Alec and Phoebe, forcing Alec to squish against the window. “Sorry I’m late.”
I turned slightly to glance at Leia, who, as it turned out, looked over at me at the same time. “I agree,” she said, “change is definitely good.”
“Some of us just suck a little more at adapting to it, but we’re getting better,” I said. I had held Leia’s hand a million times before, but this time was still tentative and careful as I reached under the table and caught her hand. My heart dropped for a second before she laced her fingers with mine, gave a little squeeze, and aimed a bright smile right at me.
“Can I walk you to your car?” I asked as we stepped out of the diner, feeling a little formal but still unsure of Leia. The hand squeezes and smiles were very good signs and I didn’t want to mess anything up.
Leia looked up at me, her smile spreading slowly across her lips until it was blindingly bright. “Sure, I’d like that.”
I waved to Phoebe, Em, and Alec through the diner window and then put my hand on the small of Leia’s back to guide her down the steps and towards her car. “Forgiven, then?”
She put one finger on lips in a thinking pose for a second, then said, grin never fading, “Maybe.”
“You’re going to have to swear you’ll never turkey dump me because I’m going to be furious if you mess up my GPA.”
Leia laughed, and I had to catch her as she tripped on a part of the sidewalk that had been shoved up by a tree root. “Please, you’d survive.”
I hunted for the perfect words, the perfect response to keep our banter going, but nothing good came to mind and I just had to settle for, “I doubt it.”
Leia stopped and squinted at me. “You were going through a mental list right there, weren’t you?”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “No,” I said, dragging out the “o.”
“You were.” She wrapped her arm around mine and looked up at me. “Did I ever tell you your lists are adorable?”
“Ugh, now I know what Phoebe meant when she said you had a kindergarten teacher talking to a little kid voice,” I said, wrinkling my nose.
“I do not.” Leia stomped her foot like an angry pixie.
I held back a “you’re so cute” comment and instead said, teasingly, “It’s such a condescending tone, like you think you’re the only adult talking to a bunch of five- and six-year-olds.” But just before she could stomp her foot again or cross her arms, I pulled her towards me like a dancer pulling her partner in for a formal dance, and smiled down at her. “But even with that tone, I’m going to miss you.”
Leia stepped even closer, bringing us to slow-dance distance, and tilted her head up to catch my eyes with her now serious ones. “You’ll survive. We’ll survive. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or something like that.”
“True,” I said softly.
“We’ll just break up during winter break, instead, to preserve your precious GPA.”
I bent down and caught her lips mid-laugh, and we sunk into the kiss and each other, familiarity twining with fire. We broke apart for air and I smirked down at her. “We’ll see about that. I already have a list of reasons why we should stay together.”
“Oh?” Leia asked, hand reaching up to play with my ponytail.
“One,” I gave her a tiny peck on the lips, “You keep me from getting too carried away with my lists.”
“Good starting point,” she said with a laugh.
“Two.” Another kiss. “You’re pretty and smart and kind. Probably the kindest person I’ve ever met. But you don’t put up with crap and you don’t let anyone else get away with it, either. Three,” I kissed her on the nose this time, “you make the absolute best baklava on the planet and since you refuse to give me the recipe, I’m stuck with you if I want any.”
“Damn right,” she said with a laugh, wrapping her arms around my neck. “You’ve figured out my secret.”
“Four,” back to a kiss on the lips, “You make me laugh. Five,” a deeper kiss and I grew more serious, looking her straight in the eyes and saying, “You’re my best friend and I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“And six,” I pulled her in for an even deeper kiss that left us both breathless. “I love you. I was ridiculous for trying to throw that away. And I will do anything to make sure this—us—survives as long as you still want me to.”
Leia’s eyes shone, a little watery from what I hoped were happy tears. She reached up and cupped my face, softly running her thumb down the side of my cheek. “I’m willing to try,” she said, softly but firmly.
“Good.”
“Good.”
I copied her, running my own thumb down her cheek, then played with a strand of her hair that had fallen in front of her ear. “So, I hear this one place has great macarons. Would you like to go with me right now to get some, maybe even share a frozen hot chocolate?”
Leia pursed her lips in thought. “Okay, but only if the macarons are rose pistachio flavored. I’m a little hooked on those right now because someone kept leaving boxes of them for me.”
“Deal. So, it’s a date.”
She lit up brighter than the sun. “It’s definitely a date.”
The End
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The most wonderful moments in my career as an engineer were when I heard back from end users—a surgeon or physician—saying a product I worked on or designed was an integral part in saving or improving someone’s life. Those of us on the customer-facing part of the team were lucky enough to be in countless surgeries to see the implants or instruments that started out as just doodles or concepts in action. But, as easy as it would have been to open the email, smile, and move on, we always made sure to share the news and the joy with the entire team—from finance to our prototype team and test teams to our manufacturing teams and sites—so everyone knew their contribution touched someone’s life, because without everyone, the only thing R&D and marketing would have in our hands would be sketches and a lump of metal or plastic. We were the names and faces the surgeons recognized, but a product is more than a concept and it takes an entire team of skilled people to make it reality. To make a difference.
The most wonderful moments in my career as an author have been hearing from you, the readers, about how a book has touched you or made you laugh when you needed it the most. And one of my favorite parts of being an author is writing the acknowledgements section to thank all the people who made it possible for the books to get into your hands. Books do not happen in a vacuum or appear out of thin air. There is so much behind making a book, both paper and electronic. There are so many hands that touch it and every hand makes it better. It takes a huge team of people, from the author and the team at the publisher, to the printer and people transporting the books or coding the websites, to the booksellers, librarians, teachers, and other readers and bloggers “buzzing” about it, for a book to get into your hands. I’m not going to be able to get everyone in here, but thank you all for all your hard work and support and know that, without all of you, these would just be words in my head. We don’t exist alone. My name is on the cover, but this book would be nothing without the team that made it happen.
To my amazing editors and the entire team at Spencer Hill Press. To my editors Asja Rehse and Patricia Riley, who saw so much more in Grace’s story and in my ability to write it than I realized, and push me, every time, to make better books, books I’m so proud of. To SHP’s managing editor, Karen Hughes, who put up with my engineer-fueled need for schedules and details and *at least* one (I may have blocked out others!) complete and total breakdown of confidence in myself and my writing. Thank you for believing in me and in these stories.
To the people who make books readable and beautiful, giving them the polish readers deserve: Thank you to Caroline DeLuca for your magic in copyediting and f
or putting up with my insistence on regionalisms and my random comma usage. Thank you to PEA’s Proofreader Chris Griswold and to beta reader Rebecca June Moore, whose comments also helped me find my path in the story. I have a habit of sending over-the-top requests for interior design in these books—especially this one—and Mark Karis has managed, every time, to make the interiors lovelier than I could even imagine. Thank you so much, Jenny Zamenak, for giving the Ever After series the prettiest set of covers on the planet, especially the wonderful *pink*-meets-tech for PEA.
To Meredith Maresco, who has the magical ability of knowing when I need heart emojis flung my way. I’m in awe of your creativity and kindness, and I’m lucky to work with such an awesome publicist and friend.
And to Eric Kampmann and the entire, extended SHP team who has made me feel so welcome. Thank you for your support and skill.
We write to allow readers an escape from the everyday world, to provide a mirror or a window, or to help them work through tough times, especially when we write for younger readers. We don’t write to hurt, and I am thankful to PEA’s sensitivity reader, Candice Montgomery, for your reads of this manuscript, comments, kind words, and guidance towards that goal.
To Carrie Howland, I’m so glad we got to work together on this series. Thank you for being a part of my author journey and supporting me throughout. I still owe you that ice cream!
Thank you, Veronica Bartles, for your friendship, suggestions, and support. Without you, I would have stayed frozen in uncertainty about letting Grace’s love of dance and engineering shine through. You’ve been my lighthouse through some of my largest moments of self-doubt and I am so grateful that you are in my life.
This book wouldn’t exist without the engineering professors who sparked my love and curiosity for what would become my “day job.” To all of my engineering and product design mentors; HCPs, physicians, and surgeons; coworkers; and, especially, my “day job” managers over the life of this series—Charlie, Matt, Mariel, Kristin, and Alex—you challenge me to be a better engineer, and remind me why I love being a problem solver with CAD and a calculator. Readers will get to see some of your guidance, advice, and skill reflected in Oliver’s and Dr. Aubrey’s characters. Thank you to the R&Divas, especially Erika, Chris, and Lori, for your constant support.
Just like engineering is a big part of this book, I couldn’t do it without an endlessly fed love for writing and craft. Thank you to my friends in Eastern PA SCBWI, especially Kim Briggs and Alison Myers, for being my cheerleaders, supporters, and friends. And thank you to the Highlights Foundation for providing a creative space where I’ve come back to my roots in making these books and where I always remember why I love to write.
Dance is a big part of Grace and PEA, and though my feet and legs haven’t let me take classes in years, and I miss it so much, writing Grace dancing brought me straight back to the studio. To all of my dance teachers and classmates—especially the Dance Academy and Dance Place Plus teachers and dancers—thank you for helping me to live those magic moments of getting lost in the music.
To my family and extended family, thank you for all the support, love, and (usually dorky, sometimes deep) STEM fueled debates around the dinner table. To Nela and Susie, who have been my partners in STEM dorkiness—I’m lucky I have the best sisters ever. To Dennis and Joey, who routinely put up with getting dragged to their batty sister-in-law’s book events—thank you for being there. I’m lucky to have you both in the family.
To Sara, my little dancer, and to Joey, my little writer: I know Joey’s “acknowledgements” section will be a million times better than mine and Sara will dance circles around me (and I wouldn’t expect anything less). Thank you for being my signing table buddies and writing support team.
Finally, even though I said it in the dedication: thank you, Mom and Dad, for believing in me and supporting me. I love you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author photo by Rachel McCalley
Isabel Bandeira grew up surrounded by trees and lakes in Southern New Jersey, right on the edge of the Pine Barrens. Her summers were always spent in Portugal, where the cathedrals, castles, and ancient tombs only fed her fairy tale obsession. Between all those influences and her serious glitter addiction, it wasn’t a surprise when she started writing stories of her own.
In her free time between writing and her day job as a mechanical engineer who designs and develops medical devices, she reads, dances, figure skates, and knits.
Isabel lives in New Jersey with her little black cat, too many books, and a closetful of vintage hats.
Practically Ever After is Book Three in the popular Ever After series.
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