Calvin’s memory of me wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Rather than me spilling his secret to a therapist I’d never visited in this reality, Calvin had been the one to report Reevey to the police. I’d read in my journal that he had shown up at a/s/l that first night, but he’d never mentioned Tommy, so I hadn’t chased him into the boys’ restroom and caught him cutting himself; we’d never made out or had sex or become anything more than friends; and Flight 1184, which I’d never purchased a ticket on, had landed safely in Seattle on August 21 at 7:03 a.m.
Oh, and the universe was expanding.
I watched Calvin pull his graduation gown off over his head. Underneath he’d worn khaki shorts and a bright blue button-down shirt.
Calvin saw me and waved. I waved back.
I missed him. He’d swum into the ocean to find what was on the other side, and had discovered the life he deserved. I could have told him all the things we’d gone through in whatever bizarro reality I’d spent the last few months living in, and he might have believed me, but he’d earned his happiness and I refused to take it away from him.
“Congratulations, Ozzie.”
I turned around to find Ms. Fuentes standing alone. She was wearing a stylish-for-her dress and clip-on shades over her giant glasses.
“Thanks, Ms. Fuentes.”
“Sad to leave school behind?”
I laughed. “Not really. But you were definitely my favorite teacher, and I learned a lot in your class.”
Fuentes beamed. “That’s the best compliment you could have given me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Did you decide on a college?” she asked. “I saw in the program you’ve been accepted to a wonderful array of schools.”
I nodded. “UC Boulder. They’ve got a great English department.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a plan,” she said. “But if you ever grow tired of reading dusty books, I think you have a real knack for designing roller coasters.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Between you and me, I honestly don’t know what I’ll end up doing.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ozzie. You’ve got the rest of your life to figure it out.”
• • •
I finally found Lua and Trent hanging out alone. Trent didn’t call me any names when he saw me, and nodded when he left.
“Still want me to believe there’s nothing going on between you and Trent?”
“Yes,” Lua said. “Because there’s nothing going on.” I frowned and glared down my nose at her. “Look, he needed someone to talk to, and I don’t mind listening. Anyway, it’s not like either of us is relationship material.”
“If you say so.” I held up my hands in surrender. “You ready?”
“Not quite.” Lua made me endure a few more pictures, this time with Dinah behind the camera, before we finally walked to my car.
The moment Lua climbed into the passenger seat, she plugged her phone into my stereo.
“You sure you want to do this?” she asked. We’d both tossed our caps and gowns into the trunk. She’d worn a glittery corset and leggings under her gown, like she was about to play a show.
“I’m sure,” I said. “Are you sure? You don’t have to come.”
“Fuck that, Oz. You go, I go.” She snapped her seat belt into place. “But we have to be back by August first so I have time to practice with the band before the tour.” She held up her hand. Tiny pins stuck out of her skin around the stitches that ran the length of her finger. “And I have to do my finger exercises so I can play.”
“August,” I said. “We’ll be back by then.” I started the car but didn’t put it into drive. I just sat there with my hands on the steering wheel.
“Ozzie?”
“Hold up,” I said. “There’s one last thing I need to do.” I hopped out of the car and dodged through the crowds of smartly dressed students and their families. I searched their faces until I found him.
And I had. I’d found Thomas Ross.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him since I’d stepped through the void and returned to this world, but it was the first time I’d worked up the courage to speak to him. I still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but I had a lot of theories. The one I thought most probable was that I’d somehow been sucked into an unstable parallel world shaped by the feeling I’d lost Tommy. I don’t know if I created that world, but I did know that even if Tommy didn’t want to be with me anymore, I never wanted to live in a world where he didn’t exist.
Tommy stood beside his mom talking to Dr. Eisenhauer, his old debate coach. He smiled when he saw me. I smiled back.
“Hey,” he said, after he’d trotted over to where I was standing.
“Hey.”
“I wanted to see you, but I didn’t know—”
“It’s all right, Tommy,” I said.
“You don’t hate me?”
I shook my head. “Never.”
Relief flooded his face.
I’d spent months dreaming of Tommy, dreaming of seeing him again and kissing him. The second thing I’d done after I’d returned was look him up. I found his beautiful smiling face on SnowFlake. Everything had gone back to the way it had been before he’d disappeared. He’d been my best friend and boyfriend. And then we’d broken up. I’d wanted to talk to him since I got back, but I’d been too scared. Only, I couldn’t leave without seeing him one last time.
Yeah, I’d found Tommy, but we were traveling separate paths now. Maybe they’d merge somewhere in the future, maybe they wouldn’t. For the present we were on our own.
“I heard about Renny,” Tommy said. “He okay?”
“He’s good.” I glanced at his mom, waved. She waved back. “Your dad didn’t come?”
“Mama kicked him out. She’s divorcing him. Finally.”
“Good for her.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “I’m gonna stick around for a while. I got into FSU and got financial aid, but I deferred for a semester to help her get on her feet.”
“Maybe you could take my job at the bookstore,” I said.
“You quit?”
“Yesterday was my last day. I’m not going to be around much this summer, and then I’m off to UC Boulder in the fall.”
Tommy smiled. It was a wistful smile, though. I knew he was happy for me, but he was sad too, if that makes sense. I felt the same. Happy for the future, sad for all I was leaving behind.
“That’s great,” Tommy said. He bit his lip. “I’m really going to miss you, Ozzie.” Before I could reply, he closed the distance between us and wrapped me in a hug I never wanted to leave.
But I had to. I had to let go.
“Lua’s waiting for me,” I said.
Tommy hiked his thumb back at his mom. “Mama’s treating me to dinner to celebrate.”
“Take care of yourself, Tommy.”
I turned to leave when Tommy said, “Hey, Ozzie? You think we’ll ever find each other again?”
I nodded. “I’ll always find you. No matter how big the universe is, I will always find you.”
I took off without waiting for a reply. Lua was still sitting in the car. I shut the door and buckled in.
“Ready?”
“This is your show, Ozzie. Where to?”
Lua was looking at me, waiting for me to put the car in gear and drive. I’d stepped into the void and survived. The world wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but I think it had returned to the way it was meant to be. The universe was vast, and though I might have been just one infinitesimal part of it, the whole of my unexplored life stretched before me. I could go anywhere. I could become anything or anyone I wanted.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Somewhere we can see the stars.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Books are never written by the author alone. They’re written and published by a community. I’m lucky to be surrounded by the very best community any author could hope for, and words alone could never be enough to thank ever
yone. But here goes anyway.
Thanks to . . .
Amy Boggs, my brilliant, thoughtful, and tireless agent. I would not, could not, be here without her.
Michael Strother, my exceptionally talented editor at Simon Pulse, without whom this book would not exist.
The entire team at Simon Pulse and Simon & Schuster—who have given me a home in publishing and supported me far better than I deserve—which includes: Mara Anastas, Mary Marotta, Liesa Abrams, Faye Bi (who always gets me where I need to be and has the best taste in TV and movies), Adam Smith (my copy editor extraordinaire), Lucille Rettino, Christina Pecorale, Candace Greene McManus, Carolyn Swerdloff, Kerry Johnson, Sara Berko, Michelle Leo, Anthony Parisi, David Gale, Justin Chanda, and all the amazing and hardworking folks who make this job the best in the world.
Katie Shea Boutillier at Donald Maass for working so hard to help my books reach audiences outside of the U.S.
All the librarians, teachers, and booksellers who put books into the hands of the readers who need them.
My family for supporting me, but especially my mom, who keeps me company on my commutes and lets me ramble about my ideas and is the best cheerleader a son could ask for.
My best friends and first readers: Rachel “Pookie” Melcher, Margie Gelbwasser, and Matthew Rush. How they haven’t banished me to a parallel universe is beyond me. I love you guys!
The book bloggers and reviewers who spread their passion for books to every corner of the Internet.
All the readers who have reached out to me to tell me their stories and support these crazy books. I owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.
And, finally, I’d like to give a very special shout-out to Ryan Sousa, the first (and only) reader to guess the real intentions of the sluggers from We Are the Ants. Keep marching on!
AUTHOR’S NOTE
When I published my first book, I never expected that I’d wind up writing books that dealt so heavily with issues of mental illness, though I probably should have. If you know me in real life or online, you know that I’m not shy about discussing my own history with depression or my attempted suicide at nineteen. Those two things, more than any others, have influenced the books and characters I write.
One of the greatest aspects of writing for young adults is that teen readers can smell bullshit from a million miles away. You can’t pander to them, you can’t talk down to them, and you can’t sugarcoat anything. All you can do is be honest, which is what I try to do when writing about mental illness. And what that means is that the characters I write do not always make the best choices. In fact, they often make the very worst choices imaginable. They deal badly with their own depression. They’re fearful of doctors and the wrongheaded stigma attached to mental illness. They often make decisions I would never encourage people to make in real life.
Like Calvin, I cut myself when I was a teen. I was afraid to ask for help, and I didn’t know how to work through the pain and anger that had built up inside of myself. I used cutting and punching walls as a pressure-release valve. And, like Calvin’s, my decision was the worst imaginable. But I wrote Calvin as honestly as I knew how, not as a role model for how to deal with depression, but simply as a confused, messed-up kid.
There are lessons I hope people will take away from this and my other books—lessons about the value of life and love and the future—because despite my own struggles, those are the lessons I’ve learned. I hope Calvin’s story and Ozzie’s story, and Jesse and Henry and Diego’s stories from We Are the Ants, will serve not as instruction manuals for how to deal with depression, but rather as maps of how not to deal with it. If I were to write a book detailing how to deal with mental illness, it would be one page and would read: Talk to someone. Seek the help you deserve. Mental illness is not something to be ashamed of, and asking for help is not a weakness.
So if you find yourself struggling with mental illness or thoughts of suicide (or even if you just need to talk), please tell someone. A parent, a teacher, a psychologist, a friend. If you’re considering hurting yourself, tell someone. As Henry said: Depression isn’t a war you win. It’s a battle you fight every day. But the great thing about life is that it’s a battle you don’t have to fight alone. Please don’t fight it alone.
RESOURCES
The Trevor Project: www.thetrevorproject.org 1-866-488-7386
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
SHAUN DAVID HUTCHINSON is the author of numerous books for young adults, including The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley, which won the Florida Book Awards’ gold medal in the Young Adult category and was named to the ALA’s 2015 Rainbow Book List; the anthology Violent Ends, which received a starred review from VOYA; and We Are the Ants, which received five starred reviews and was named a best book of January 2016 by Amazon.com, Kobo.com, Publishers Weekly, and iBooks. He lives in South Florida with his adorably chubby dog, and he enjoys Doctor Who, comic books, and yelling at the TV. Visit him at ShaunDavidHutchinson.com.
SIMON PULSE
SIMON & SCHUSTER, NEW YORK
VISIT US AT SIMONANDSCHUSTER.COM/TEEN
authors.simonandschuster.com/Shaun-David-Hutchinson
Also by SHAUN DAVID HUTCHINSON
The Deathday Letter
fml
The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley
Violent Ends
We Are the Ants
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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First Simon Pulse hardcover edition February 2017
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