by Trish Doller
“What are you doing?”
“I have a plan.”
“What is it?”
“Just watch.”
Taylor lowers herself into the dinghy and motors around to the bow of the boat, where she ties one end of the towrope, ties the other end to the dinghy—and guides the boat into the marina.
24.5465° N, 81.7975° W
Start here.
Willa
WHEN FINLEY DONOGHUE DIED, THE funeral procession was incredibly long. So long that the Sandusky police department had to change the traffic light sequence through town so all the cars could stay together. Even though Finley hadn’t wanted that kind of funeral, she would have loved knowing she backed up traffic for miles.
In Key West, her procession is much smaller. Just two girls pedaling their bikes at six o’clock in the morning toward the place where Whitehead and South Streets converge. The golden light of sunrise turns the sea bright turquoise and the Key West roosters crow in the distance, welcoming the new day.
Willa and Taylor kickstand their bikes and approach the big concrete buoy that marks the southernmost point of the continental United States. The buoy is taller than both of them, and painted red, black, and gold.
They have reached terminus.
Now there is only one more thing to do before their trip is officially complete.
Taylor places the bottle of Finley’s ashes at the base of the buoy, under the words “Key West, FL.” Willa feels simultaneously happy and sad, and she tries to understand how it is possible for opposite emotions to take up the same space within a heart.
Taylor snaps a photo of the ashes, then looks at Willa with a tear tracking down her cheek. Her voice cracks. “I thought I was ready to say goodbye, but it turns out I’m not.”
Willa smiles through the haze of her own unshed tears. “I know.”
“I found a website where you can have someone’s ashes fired into a bead that you wear on a bracelet or a necklace,” Taylor says. “That way you can always carry them with you.”
Willa taps her fingers to her own chest. “She’s always going to be with us.”
“I know.” Taylor sniffles, wiping her face with the side of her hand. “I just thought—”
“Hey,” Willa says softly. “Keep some of the ashes for a bead if that’s what you want.”
Taylor shakes her head. “I want to do this.”
“You can do both.”
Taylor picks up the bottle, and they step up onto the breakwall. The water laps gently against the rocks below as Taylor pulls open the stopper. She pours some of the ashes into the bowl of Willa’s palm and some into her own, leaving a little bit in the bottle.
“Do you think we should say a few words or something?” Taylor asks.
“I feel like we said enough at her funeral. Maybe we should just do ‘WTF.’ ”
“Scatter on ‘Foxtrot?’ ”
Willa reaches for Taylor’s free hand as she nods. She smiles. “Whiskey.”
Taylor smiles back. “Tango.”
“Foxtrot,” they say in unison, and they toss their handfuls of ash.
At that moment, a gust of wind kicks up and Finley’s ashes scatter backward, catching in their hair, dusting their faces, and blowing into their open mouths. Willa coughs as she inhales a bit of ash into her lungs.
“Oh my God!” Taylor cries out, choking with laughter as tears stream down her face. “This is the most Finley thing ever.”
Willa cracks up laughing, the ash like sand on her lips. “When I said we’d always have her with us, this is not what I meant.”
“We need to record this for posterity.” Taylor holds her instant camera at arm’s length and they lean into each other.
In the shadow of the buoy, they wait for the photo to develop.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Taylor asks. “Will you stay in Key West for a few more days or . . . ?”
Willa shrugs, but her cheeks dimple as she gestures at the southernmost marker. “I mean, Cuba’s only ninety miles away.”
“You can’t go to Cuba without me!”
She nudges Taylor with her elbow. “We’ll save that trip for another time.”
“Will we?”
Willa isn’t sure how to answer. Taylor is the last person she expected to have as a best friend. But maybe best doesn’t mean forever. Maybe best is the person you get at a time when you need her most and she stays only that long. Tomorrow might be the last time Willa and Taylor ever see each other. Or they might meet up at their tenth class reunion. Or maybe, fifty years from now—when their faces are etched with laughter lines—they’ll still be friends. No matter how their lives play out, if anyone ever asks Willa if Taylor Nicholson was her best friend, the answer will always be yes.
Now, though, she smiles. “Let’s play it by ear.”
Slowly, the picture reveals itself. Taylor, with ash mixed into the dampness on her cheeks. Willa, with gray dust trapped in the spiral of a curl. Finley all over them. Both their faces show smiles and tears. Opposite emotions sharing the same space.
And Willa understands.
1. Start here.
2. Music is good for the soul, but sometimes you have to make the playlist as you go.
3. Make time for wonder. (Just don’t charge it to your mom’s credit card.)
4. Time travel whenever possible. Don’t leave your friends behind (even for a cute boy).
5. Don’t lose your head. Be flexible with the plans.
6. Take a bite out of life, especially if it means kissing a pretty girl.
7. Make your own luck. Don’t gamble with your future, even if it seems like a sure thing.
8. Give a “ship.” Leave room for the unexpected.
9. Get a little wild. and believe in fate.
10. Believe the unbelievable. Believe in yourself.
11. Stay young. Stay strong.
12. Reach for the stars. Trust your instincts (but always keep a towrope handy).
13. It’s not the destination . . . (You know the rest.) Don’t scatter your dead best friend’s ashes into the wind. (Seriously. Don’t.)
14. Start here.
Acknowledgments
Frank Turner wrote a song called “Long Live the Queen” that made me cry. If neither of those things had happened, this book would probably not exist. Thank you, Frank, for all the songs, but especially that one.
Katie Smith and Jessie Zevalkink spent two years aboard a twenty-seven-foot sailboat, traveling America’s Great Loop. Their adventures and most especially their friendship were a huge inspiration.
It might be strange to thank a city for existing, but Sandusky was my childhood. It was where I was married and where we raised our children. Some of the stories and memories in this book are my stories and my memories—and no matter where I live, Sandusky will always be the place I call home.
While I was working on this book, Mary Singler rolled up her sleeves and punched cancer in the face, proving (once again) that my mom is the strongest, bravest, and most resilient woman I know. I love you, do you love me?
Life tested my family a lot—too much, really—in 2018, and I owe a debt of gratitude to my agent, Kate Testerman, and my editor, Jennifer Ung, for their patience and kindness when I needed it most.
Suzanne Young always rates her own line in my acknowledgments because she deserves it. Not a day goes by that she’s not there for me. Thanks for countless “Does this make sense?” reads, talking me down from ledges, and just being my friend. You’re the best, Suz.
Endless thanks to Cristin Bishara, Kathy Boyd, Huntley Fitzpatrick, Annie Gaughen, Miranda Kenneally, Wendy Mills, and Veronica Rossi for reading, listening, brainstorming, and being outstanding human beings. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.
Ginger, Jess, and Jenn . . . you have outstanding taste in music. Thank you for helping me create the soundtrack for this book.
Caroline, Scott, Raquella, and Jack, you are the Very Best People and I am fortunate t
hat you also happen to be my family. (And you, Cobi Jones, are the Very Best Dog.)
Speaking of very bests . . . Phil, I love you the very best. Always.
About the Author
Trish Doller is the author of Something Like Normal, which was an ABC New Voices Pick and a finalist for NPR’s Best Teen Books of All Time, among many other accolades; Where the Stars Still Shine, which was an Indie Next List Pick; The Devil You Know; and In a Perfect World. She has been a newspaper reporter, radio personality, and bookseller, and she lives in Fort Myers, Florida, with a relentlessly optimistic border collie and a pirate.
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ALSO BY TRISH DOLLER
Something Like Normal
Where the Stars Still Shine
The Devil You Know
In a Perfect World
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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.
SIMON PULSE
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First Simon Pulse hardcover edition August 2019
Text copyright © 2019 by Trish Doller
Jacket photograph close-up of rope copyright © 2019 by iStock.com/AlKane
Jacket photograph of girl on rope copyright © 2019 by iStock.com/Hakase
Jacket photograph of sailboat copyright © 2019 by iStock.com/Meghan McGrath
Jacket photograph of girls in sunglasses copyright © 2019 by Daniel Grill/Getty Images
Jacket photograph of lake © 2019 by iStock.com/David Montgomery
Jacket photograph of marina © 2019 by iStock.com/haveseen
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Doller, Trish, author.
Title: Start here / by Trish Doller.
Description: New York : Simon Pulse, 2019. |
Summary: Willa and Taylor fulfill the dying wish of Finley, who had held their friendship together, by sailing from Ohio to Key West after high school graduation.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019005401 | ISBN 9781481479912 (hardcover)
Subjects: | CYAC: Sailing—Fiction. | Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. | Death—Fiction. | Grief—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.D7055 St 2019 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019005401
ISBN 9781481479936 (eBook)
