by Amy Spalding
I approach Natalie, because I now see her as my equal or am at least attempting to. I’m convinced she’ll fight me or, worse, look incredibly smug as I talk, but she does neither. And maybe it’s just because my whole plan might only serve to make me look bad and remind people of something better forgotten, but Natalie not only agrees to my plan, but offers to help.
By Friday morning I am feeling exactly the opposite of my emotional state the day our Chaos 4 All article hit the figurative newsstands. Considering how that turned out, hopefully the knot of anxiety in my stomach is a good sign.
“I meant to text you last night,” Sadie says, sitting down right as the bell rings. I can’t believe I’m only minutes away from appearing on screens across the entire school. Considering that the segment went a little differently than I’d planned, I have the urge to text Natalie—yes, I now occasionally have to text Natalie—and tell her to cut it, if there’s still time.
If there’s not time, maybe Carlos could show his butt again.
“Are you listening to me?” Sadie asks.
“Sorry, what were you going to text?” I whisper back.
“Mom and I were talking last night.” Sadie rolls her eyes, but I know her well enough to spot that there isn’t much behind this gesture. I still make a sympathetic face. “We’re going to tour NYU again on a long weekend trip soon, and she says you can come with us.”
“Miss Sheraton-Hayes,” Ms. Cannon says with a sigh. “Please be quiet.”
The TV screen descends, but despite what’s coming, I manage to sneak a look at Sadie and mouth, I’m in!
TALON kicks off with its usual welcome from Natalie, then Kevin’s segment showcases the titular Eagle Rock that gives this part of town its name, and Alex speaks with members of the Los Angeles Historical Society.
And then, it’s me.
“Oh my god, Jules!” Sadie shrieks.
“Miss Sheraton-Hayes. Please.”
“I’m Julia McAllister-Morgan, editor of the Crest,” I say on-screen. I’m still not sure I’m built for on-camera life, but I don’t look as washed-out as I’d feared. Apparently lighting can do great things. “We recently printed an article about TALON’s online stats, which we have since retracted. I wanted to extend a personal apology to all staff and faculty members of TALON—which the Crest has since partnered with—for casting doubt onto your success. The level of research and verification was not up to the Crest’s usual standards, and I apologize for that as well, on top of pledging that our investigative journalism will never be printed without comprehensive confirmation.”
I know what’s coming next and am relieved to see that on-screen I’m not blushing the way I am positive I am right now. Luckily Sadie is watching my on-screen self too intently to notice and therefore point that out, loudly.
“Lastly, I want to deliver a personal apology to someone who was implicated most harshly in our piece, Alex Powell. There was no reason to tie your past into an article about TALON.”
“Alex,” I say, looking right at the camera, “I’m incredibly sorry for any false information we distributed about you. I never would have printed the story if I thought that it would hurt you.”
The filmed me pauses for a split second. When this happened, I’d expected Natalie to bark at me for taking too much time or going off script. Amazingly, she didn’t.
“I hope you’ll forgive me because… I still Want 2 B Ur Girl.”
Thankfully, I look embarrassed for saying it. But I also look sincere.
“Um, back to you, Natalie.”
The um may have killed whatever professionalism I had left after parodying a Chaos 4 All song title, but I’m glad that it’s out there. The apology and declaration, that is, not the um. I’ll have to work on that before I go on camera again.
“Oh my god,” Sadie says, once Natalie’s back on-screen. “Oh my god.”
There are a lot of murmurs, not just Sadie’s whisper-proof voice. I don’t know where to look, so I just look straight down at my desktop.
“Class,” Ms. Cannon says with a heavy sigh. “Please pay attention.”
We manage to get through the rest of TALON, and then the rest of class. By now I don’t know what to do with myself, so I just make a beeline for my locker and try not to notice that a lot of people are staring at me.
“That was amazing,” Sadie says, right behind me. “You’re so brave.”
“I don’t know why I said it, and then I don’t know why Natalie kept it in.”
“It’s good for ratings!” Sadie laughs. “I’m kidding! It was perfect.”
“I realized something,” I say. “I want him back. If it’s even possible.”
“Obviously,” Sadie says.
“So I’m being proactive,” I say. “I’m proactive about everything else in my life. I should be on this too.”
“He’s coming over,” Sadie whispers, and for the first time ever, it’s a real whisper. The importance of the situation must have dialed her voice back. “Tell me everything later.”
She slips away, and I try to casually finish switching out books from my locker. I’m not great at trying to act casual, so I have a feeling it might not be going over the way I intend.
“Hey,” Alex says.
I turn around. “Hi.”
He steps in close to me. “I want to tell you that… I believe you, Jules.”
“About what?” I ask.
“You wouldn’t have published that story if you thought it would hurt me.”
“No,” I say. “Never.”
“I flipped out because… this is embarrassing.” He takes a deep breath, and then lets it out. “That song was the biggest thing I was ever a part of. So to find out it wasn’t actually anything—”
“You didn’t know?” I ask. “At all?”
“Shit, no. I thought we magically got famous because we worked so hard and had a great song. I was naïve, I guess.”
“You weren’t naïve,” I say. “The whole world believed it. It sounds like only a few people knew the truth.”
The bell rings, but we smile at each other in a way that says we both don’t care about tardiness in this moment.
“I still don’t know who I am,” he says. “I already didn’t know, and now I feel like I know less.”
“You don’t have to know everything right now,” I say. “You’re only seventeen.”
“You’re the same age as me, and you know everything,” he says.
“Not everything. This year’s been…” I laugh. “Weird. Because of you, and TALON, and… and just life. I thought this whole year would be the paper and getting into college.”
I take a deep breath, and then I lace my fingers through his. “When the year started, I knew what I wanted, and now… well, I’m less sure. But you—”
“Yeah, Jules?”
“I want to be with you,” I say. “I miss you, and I don’t want to miss you anymore. And I might still screw up, and I’ll probably still be crazy about the paper and now about TALON, and—”
“I feel like by now you should know that I like how crazy you are,” he says. “I want to be with you too. Which is way more impressive, because I know way less what I want.”
I slip my hands around his neck and rise up on my tiptoes. Everything I feel right now should be Alex, but I hear footsteps coming down the hallway. They sound suspiciously like teacher footsteps.
“Shhhh,” I tell Alex, and we duck behind the end of the row of lockers until the footsteps are past us.
Amazingly, this works. I’m still on my tiptoes, and now Alex’s arms are snug around my waist. We fit together as if we never didn’t. A kiss shouldn’t mean anything that words haven’t already said, but when Alex’s lips meet mine, I know that he still Wants 2 B My Boy.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you so much to the incredible Pam Gruber. You were the perfect editor to work with on Jules. A huge thank-you to the whole team at Poppy/Little, Brown, especially Jane Lee, Hallie Patterson, Leslie Shumate, Pam Garfinkel, and Farrin Jacobs.
Thanks, as always, to my amazing agent, Kate Testerman. You keep me as calm as I’m able to be, which is no small job, and your enthusiasm makes the scary parts of this process a heck of a lot easier.
Thanks to my amazing early readers and note givers: Robin Benway, Jasmine Guillory, Courtney Summers, Christie Baugher, and Sarah Skilton. Lots of extra gratitude to Christie for writing Chaos 4 All’s biggest hit! Thank you so much to Rochelle Hartson, Lauren Kalb, and Ashley Denault for information about Brown University. Thanks to everyone who responded to me via email or social media about taking smarty-pants classes at your good high schools.
Thank you to my father, who passed away while I was finishing this book, for so much love, as well as the frequent comparisons to Mary Tyler Moore. Lastly, thanks to my mom, Pat Spalding, for her constant support and friendship.
*See Google Maps link.
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CONTENTS
COVER
TITLE PAGE
WELCOME
DEDICATION
EPIGRAPH
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
COPYRIGHT
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Amy Spalding
“Want 2 B Ur Boy” lyrics © 2016 Christie Baugher
Photo of couple © Gabrielle Lutze / Stocksy
Photo of backpack © 2016 Howard Huang
Cover design by Maggie Edkins
Cover © 2016 Hachette Book Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Poppy
Hachette Book Group
1290 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10104
lb-teens.com
Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company.
The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
First ebook edition: April 2016
ISBN 978-0-316-38276-2
E3
