Kate in Waiting
Page 26
“Kate, I like Brandie a lot, but I’m not looking for a girlfriend. It’s senior year. I’m leaving in a few months—”
“Right. Totally.” I nod quickly, a lump rising into my throat. “But you liked Kennesaw, right? And some of the other local schools—”
“Yeah, definitely, but.” He sighs. “Okay, scoot over.”
He squeezes in beside me on the steps. Just about everyone’s left the auditorium by now, which makes the whole space seem weirdly huge and majestic. For a moment, neither of us speaks.
“I don’t know where I’ll end up,” Ryan says finally. “Might be Tech. Might be Kennesaw. Might be California. I don’t know what scholarships are going to look like. I don’t even know where I’ll get in. But it’s definitely starting to feel real.”
I nod mutely.
“So, it’s like, suddenly this big change that seemed really far away is right there. And I’m excited, yeah, but it’s also kind of freaking me out. So if I seemed a little, I don’t know, clingy—”
“Clingy?” I laugh, startled. “I can’t even imagine you being clingy.”
“Okay, well.” He smiles. “If it seemed like I was around more—Kate, I’m really sorry if it seemed like I was just trying to hook up with one of your friends.”
“It’s fine! I was all for it!”
“Yeah, you made that pretty clear.” He laughs. “But, Katy, that was never a thing. I just feel weird about the fact that I’m leaving you.”
I just stare at him. “Oh.”
“Kate!” I look up with a start, to find Andy peeking out from the side of the curtain. “Where have you been? Come on! Almost everyone’s changed already.”
“Oops—coming!” I scramble up, biting my lip. “Sorry—”
“It’s fine. Go do your thing.”
“I did.” I step back onstage, grinning. “And I am.”
Scene 80
“You know what just hit me?” I say, as I follow Andy to the dressing room. “You’re going to be seventeen in, like, two hours.”
“I know! Did you ever think we’d have boyfriends on our seventeenth birthdays? We’re like movie teens.”
“Um. Slow your roll, Walker. No one’s used the b-word yet.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He grins. “I give it a week.”
It’s so strange. Two months ago, when it came to my friends’ collective love lives, Harold was the whole story. But now my whole squad’s gone Shakespearean. Okay, Brandie’s still saving herself for Harry Styles, but it’s barely October. At the rate we’re all going, she’ll probably be married by homecoming.
I open the dressing room door, and there’s Noah.
“So here’s the thing,” he says promptly. “I want to be your b-word.”
“Wow. You’re here. Hi.” I can’t quite catch my breath. “I guess you heard us—”
“Yeah. Yup.” He grabs my hand.
“That’s my exit cue,” says Andy, already backtracking. He pulls the door shut behind him. No six inches. No inches whatsoever.
Noah’s back in his hoodie and gym shorts, face scrubbed clean, cheeks still pink from the washcloth. He presses my hand to his chest, and his heart’s thudding.
I stare at him. “Noah, I’m—”
“God. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ambush you. Did I ambush you?”
“Maybe?” I drop his hand, stepping nearer. “I kind of liked it.”
“Kind of. Okay. So is that like—”
“Noah!” I grab his face in my hands and kiss him.
He exhales, startled. But then he tugs me closer, walking me backward until his back’s flush with the vanity, his face framed with lights. And there’s me in the mirror, in my gown and tiara, but I shut my eyes quickly.
I don’t want to watch this like a movie. I don’t want to save the details for later.
I want—
Noah’s lips, an inch from mine. “Happy opening night,” he says, smiling.
But it feels so much less like a night, and so much more like an opening.
Curtain Call
Ryan says driver’s license pictures are always garbage, but then again, he didn’t have an entourage. Brandie keeps straightening my collar and blotting my nose with a tissue, and Raina’s physically tucked my hair behind my ears three times. And that’s just since we walked into the DDS. But all Anderson cares about is the smile.
“Katy, they’re going to tell you not to smile, and you have to—are you listening to me? You have to ignore them. Or it will look like a mug shot.”
“I can’t decide if you sound like an f-boy or a pageant mom.”
“I’m just saying. Don’t let them intimidate you,” Andy says. “Smiling’s not illegal in Georgia.”
Noah leans toward Matt. “Is smiling illegal in states that are not Georgia?”
“I guess so?” Matt shrugs.
I love my hype team: the full squad, including Matt. And my brother. And my boyfriend.
I’ve even got my guitar. I mean, it’s in the trunk of Ryan’s car.
Our car. Mine and Ryan’s. Officially.
I felt nervous this morning—but it was a manageable kind of nervous. Kind of like theater nerves. Like stepping onto a stage when you know every line by heart. In the weeks since the play, I’ve practiced driving every single day, with both my parents. Which definitely paid off, seeing as I got a perfect score on the driver’s test.
So it’s official: I’m a driver’s seat person. All that’s left is the picture.
“Look into the bottom lens, please,” the woman says. “Eyes open, neutral expression.”
Anderson shakes his head frantically, poking the corners of his mouth up with his fingers. “Ignore her,” he mouths.
Like I could ever—in a million years—make it through this moment without smiling.
THE END
Acknowledgments
THE PART WHERE YOU MAKE THE SUNDAY MATINEE AUDIENCE WATCH YOU PRESENT YOUR DRAMA TEACHER WITH FLOWERS AND AN ENLARGED FRAMED PRINT OF THE PROGRAM ART SIGNED BY THE CAST AND CREW AND YOU’RE ALL CRYING BUT NO ONE’S CRYING HARDER THAN THE FUCKBOYS WHO CAN’T LEAVE THE THEATER AND ARE THEREFORE MISSING CRUCIAL TELEVISED SPORTING EVENTS BECAUSE THEY LIVE BY YOUR RULES NOW AND IT’S VERY SAD OF COURSE BUT THE CURTAIN SPEECHES MUST GO ON
Hi! Can you all hear me? Good! Okay, first of all, on behalf of the entire cast and crew, I want to thank you all so much for being here. I’m Becky, the author, and this production has truly been one of the most rewarding experiences of my career so far. I’d like to take a minute to acknowledge the people whose work and support behind the scenes brought this story to life.
First, I’d like to present this giant unicorn head mask to my editor, Donna Bray, who deserves top billing for her wisdom, humor, and utter mercilessness toward fuckboys. And on behalf of the RHHS theater department, enormous thanks to every member of my team at HarperCollins/Balzer+Bray, including Tiara Kittrell, Patty Rosati, Suzanne Murphy, Jacquelynn Burke, Sam Benson, Ebony LaDelle, Sabrina Abballe, Shannon Cox, Kristin Eckhardt, Mark Rifkin, Shona McCarthy, Jill Amack, Nellie Kurtzman, and Alessandra Balzer. It’s my honor to present each of you with your very own medieval costume (yours to keep for two years).
Thanks to Jenna Stempel-Lobell, Alison Donalty, and Pepco Studios for this showstopper of a book cover. I hereby present each of you with your own name in lights (maybe even floating paper lanterns).
At the special request of Noah Kaplan, I’d like this sawed-off cast (signed and illustrated by Jack Randall) to go to my agent, Holly Root, along with Alyssa Moore, Heather Baror, and my entire team at Root Literary—with infinite thanks for keeping me together behind the curtains.
Next, I’d like to present Devon Blackwell’s heavily annotated copy of Once Upon a Mattress to Mary Pender-Coplan, Orly Greenberg, Julia Brownell, Julie Waters, Isaac Klausner, Laura Quicksilver, and my teams at UTA and Temple Hill (without whom the show would simply not go on).
For Brooks Sherman, Roma Panganiban, and the wo
nderful team at Janklow & Nesbit, I’m thrilled to present you with this baseball signed by the entire MLB.
For my standing-ovation-worthy international publishing teams, I’d like to present official hall passes to Senior D (signed with extra flourish for Leo Teti, Anthea Townsend, Ben Horslen, Ruth Bennett, and Mathilde Tamae-Bouhon).
Top volume thanks go to Bebe Wood, for an audiobook that sings. It’s my pleasure to present you with Kate’s guitar.
To thank my earliest readers for sharing their wisdom and knowledge, I’m presenting a bound copy of my full doctoral dissertation in the field of Fuckboy Studies: Julian Winters, Mark O’Brien, David Arnold, Aisha Saeed, and Nani Borges.
With heartfelt gratitude for keeping me from losing my everloving mind, I’d like to present each and every one of my friends, in and outside the book community, with a pair of Cotton Mather’s cotton trousers. In addition, I’d like the following people to join me onstage to receive limited edition RHHS baseball hats, each one signed by all eight of Sean Sanders’s abs (please hold your applause until the end): Adam Silvera, Adib Khorram, Aisha Saeed, Amy Austin, Angie Thomas, Arvin Ahmadi, Ashley Woodfolk, Becky Kilimnik, Chris Negron, Clark Moore, Dahlia Adler, David Arnold, David Levithan, Diane Blumenfeld, Emily Carpenter, Emily Townsend, George Weinstein, Gillian Morshedi, Jenny Mariaschin-Rudin, Jeri Green, Heidi Schulz, Jacob Demlow, Jaime Hensel, Jaime Semensohn, James Sie, Jasmine Warga, Jennifer Dugan, Jennifer Niven, Niki Malek, Jodi Picoult, Julian Winters, Julie Murphy, Kevin Savoie, Kimberly Ito, Lauren Starks, Lindsay Keiller, Luis Rivera, Mackenzi Lee, Manda Turetsky, Mark O’Brien, Molly Mercer, Nic Stone, Rose Brock, Sam Rowntree, Sarah Beth Brown, Sophie Gonzales, and Tom-Erik Fure.
Mr. D would like to extend a hearty Suckle to all of you booksellers, bloggers, librarians, educators, and readers. You’ve earned it.
I’d like to present every member of my family with a ball of rolled-up challah, to be placed underneath twenty mattresses (and if a single one of us is kept awake, we’re all royalty) (that includes all of you Goldsteins, Albertallis, Reitzeses, Thomases, Bells, and Overholtses, I don’t make the rules).
In addition: to my sister, Caroline Reitzes, I present Kate’s mom’s old guitar, #jammin. To my brother, Sam Goldstein, I present a giant neon Bulbasaur. To my mom, Eileen Thomas, I present an early draft of this book before I had to cut the parts about Tamiment. And to my dad and stepmom, Jim and Candy Goldstein, I present you with official permission to slip out the side door after the first hour of thank-you speeches.
Anderson’s Rapunzel keychain, of course, goes to Dan Fogelman.
Next, please stand and applaud as I invite my husband and kids onto the stage so I can properly embarrass them with a weepy public thank-you. You three are my stage crew and my neverending happy epilogue. It is my greatest honor to present Owen and Henry with Kate’s teddy bears, Amber and Ember. As for Brian, I owe you the kind of thanks that can only be expressed with this gift of Daniel Tiger’s father’s nonexistent pants.
And finally, I’d like to direct your attention to the squad who taught me everything I know about finstas and f-boys. They inspire me daily with the strength and depth of their old and new friendships and, y’all, they even let me borrow their names. To Anderson Rothwell, I present this framed grainy picture of the Roswell High football field, inscribed with the caption “Whatta night #FNL.” To Brandie Rendon, I present the sequel where you meet Harry Styles. To Katy-Lynn Cook, I present a limo full of hotties, chaperoned by Noah’s mom. To Matthew Eppard, I present a Coke ad of your face. And, at last: to Kate Goud, I present Kate’s driver’s license. Your picture came out perfectly, your world is wide open, and your spotlight awaits.
About the Author
Photo by Decisive Moment Events
BECKY ALBERTALLI is the author of William C. Morris Award winner and National Book Award longlist title Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (now a major motion picture, Love, Simon); the acclaimed The Upside of Unrequited; and the New York Times bestsellers Leah on the Offbeat; Love, Creekwood; What If It’s Us (cowritten with Adam Silvera); and Yes No Maybe So (cowritten with Aisha Saeed). Becky lives with her family in Atlanta.
You can visit her online at www.beckyalbertalli.com.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Books by Becky Albertalli
Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda
Leah on the Offbeat
Love, Creekwood
The Upside of Unrequited
What If It’s Us (with Adam Silvera)
Here’s to Us (with Adam Silvera)
Yes No Maybe So (with Aisha Saeed)
Kate in Waiting
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Copyright
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
KATE IN WAITING. Copyright © 2021 by Becky Albertalli. Emojis by Carboxylase/Shutterstock. 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.
www.epicreads.com
Cover art © 2021 by PEPCO STUDIO
Cover design by JENNA STEMPEL-LOBELL
* * *
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020948140
Digital Edition APRIL 2021 ISBN: 978-0-06-264385-8
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-264383-4
* * *
2122232425PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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