Who's That Girl
Page 29
“Stoplight Diner?” Tall Zach said. “They have fried Tastykakes.”
“No offense, but ew, gross.” Tess made a face. “I say we go down to the pavilion by the creek. I bet we could see stars.”
“We’ll get arrested for loitering,” Zach the Anarchist said.
“And it’s, like, two degrees out,” Tall Zach said.
“Says the guy who always wears shorts,” Tess said, and rolled her eyes.
“So let’s go to Wawa,” Tall Zach countered. “We can just get sandwiches.”
“And then what?” Tess said. “I don’t want to just loaf around my living room. I’ve got an hour left in my curfew and I intend to use it.”
“You can use it getting sandwiches!”
“Or a fried Tastykake!”
“What do you want to do, Nattie?” Zach My Date said. When I said my feet hurt, he had very chivalrously allowed me to put them in his lap, which might have been weird with someone else, but with Zach West, it was fine. Nice, even. I was about to say I didn’t know and would be fine just eating a fried Tastykake when an idea hit me.
“Hey!” I slammed a hand onto the table, making the light-up centerpiece fall over and everyone snap to attention. “Let’s all go over to my house. I’ve got a place we can hang out.”
The yard was dark when we got there, and the ground was really cold. Tall Zach sprinted right over, with Endsignal trailing, and Tess followed in leaps and bounds facilitated by hitching her skirt almost all the way up to her butt.
“And don’t anyone dare look at my underwear,” she said, “or I will murder you and use your organs for snowshoes.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Zach My Date muttered. He was holding my hand again.
“That’s Tess,” I said. He started to walk over, but I stayed back.
“What?”
“This is such a weird thing to be doing after a dance,” I said.
“Nattie,” Zach said, “after the events of this week, this is by far one of the most normal things we’ve done. And also, who the hell cares if it’s weird? Where would you rather be, off drinking wine coolers and having premarital sex?”
“As long as they’re not strawberry wine coolers,” I said, and even in the darkness, I think I could see Zach blush. “I’m kidding,” I said quickly. “I meant it’s weird in a good way. Like, look at me here, with my weird little life and my weird, awesome friends.”
“Yeah,” Zach said. Now I could tell he was blushing, because he was standing very close to me. Close enough for us to kiss.
I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips into his.
“This isn’t weird, is it?” Zach said, as soon as I pulled away. I had to laugh.
“Well, now it is!”
“Hey! Nattie!” Tess poked her head out of the flap. “How do you turn on this heater thing? I’m freezing.”
“Wrap yourself in a blanket,” I said. “I’m coming.”
Tess rolled her eyes and went back in.
“Should we go?” Zach said.
“In a second,” I said, and kissed him again. “Okay. Now we can go.”
Zach held my hand and helped me step over the frozen dirt, and together we followed our weird friends into the yurt.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing a book is a lot like building a yurt, in that it’s hard, it takes a long time, and it makes people think you are crazy for even trying. Fortunately, I had lots of help, for which I am supremely grateful. First, thank you to Uwe Stender, the most unflappable and indefatigable of agents, and to Brent Taylor and all of TriadaUS. To Alexandra Cooper, my fantastic editor, thank you for championing, guiding, and pushing by turns: I could not have done this without you. At HarperCollins, thanks also to Alyssa Miele for all your help, to Bethany Reis, Emily Rader, and Megan Gendell for sharp-eyed copy edits, and to the publicity team for truly impressive levels of enthusiasm.
Thanks to Kate Brauning and Alex Yuschik for early reads and years (!) of creative friendship. Thanks also to V. Arrow, Kate Hattemer, Julie Leung, and Naseem Jamnia for your invaluable feedback on this book, and to Katie Locke, Eric Smith, and Chris Urie for all the moral support/writing dates/Gchats. Eli Sentman and Kirsten Madsen: thanks for all the Jamba alerts. Ari Kaplan, je suis indebted to toi pour having coined “je frappe toi.” To the Under the Stairs Club, thanks for all the Friendsgivings of breaking bread with the math department.
To Germantown Friends School, where I first learned Catullus, and to Hamline University’s MFA in writing for children and young adults program, where I learned almost everything else that matters: thank you for teaching me. Special shouts to my amazing advisors and my lovely Hamlettes.
Finally, endless thanks to my family: Alice, Sam, and my parents Rebecca and David (the real-life McCullough-Schwartzes) who knew I would be a writer before I did. I love you; please be my family forever.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by Chris Urie
BLAIR THORNBURGH is a graduate of the University of Chicago and a student at Hamline University’s MFA program in writing for children and young adults. She lives in Philadelphia. This is her first novel. To learn more about Blair and her love for both Catullus and Joni Mitchell, visit her online at www.blairthornburgh.com.
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BOOKS BY BLAIR THORNBURGH
Who’s That Girl
CREDITS
Cover art © 2017 by JOSE BERRIO
Cover design by AURORA PARLAGRECO
COPYRIGHT
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
WHO’S THAT GIRL. Copyright © 2017 by Blair Thornburgh. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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ISBN 978-0-06-244777-7
EPub Edition © June 2017 ISBN 9780062447791
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FIRST EDITION
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