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My gram told me once when I was eleven that I could do

anything. She’d been very matter of fact as she poured us each

an iced tea on a steamy afternoon

It was the kind of afternoon when the air sizzled and stuck

to the insides of your clothes. The kind of afternoon that

made your skin clammy and your muscles lazy. I remember

that the birds were quiet but the locusts chimed like mini

buzz saws.

Funny, the things that you remember, and the things that

you can’t forget no matter how hard you try.

I think about that now and it seems so long ago.

I’ve learned a lot since that summer. I’ve learned that tragedy

can strike when you least expect it. That life can disappear.

But I’ve also learned that life goes on. The world still turns,

and every morning, the sun still rises. I learned that while pain and regret can burrow beneath your skin like a parasite, there is always hope.

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We just have to be patient and lucky enough to find it. Or if

you’re like me, it finds you.

Nathan Everets was my hope and I knew that I was his. He

was right. Together we could do anything.

It just sucked that our together was going to end in about

ten minutes.

“Flight 247, New Orleans to New York, now boarding.”

The disembodied voice cut through my thoughts and I

squeezed Nate’s hands. “That’s me.”

We stood up and I watched Gram hug Mom and Dad before

turning to me. Her silver hair caught a beam of light from the

windows, and for a second, I thought she looked like an angel.

An angel who dressed in pearls and linen like a real

Southern woman.

Nate let go of my fingers and I flew into her arms, fighting

the knot of emotion that clogged my throat.

How could I express to my gram everything that I’d felt and

experienced this summer? How could I tell her that I think she

saved me? That she and Nathan had pretty much kept the crazy

out of my head so that I could heal?

“You take care of yourself, you hear?” Gram hugged me

fiercely. “I love you so much, my little girl.”

“I know.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, pulling away.

“What for?” I was barely able to get the words out.

“For being strong enough to let me in.” She tucked a piece of

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my hair behind my ear and whispered, for my ears only. “And

for catching Nathan.”

“Monroe, we’ve got to board.”

I nodded at my mother and watched my dad shake Nathan’s

hand. The two of them moved off a few paces, and I waited for

Nathan to come to me.

“So,” he said huskily, “I guess this is it.”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak because I was too afraid that if I

tried to, I would burst into tears and things would get messy

real fast.

He gathered me into a hug, his mouth next to my ear. “We’ll

talk every day.”

Again I nodded.

“Skype will be our best friend, right?”

I sniffled. And nodded.

“And when Trevor gets better, I’m bringing him to New York

to meet you.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Monroe, we have to go.” My mom looked like she was

going to cry, and I kissed Nathan, a soft, quick brush of

my lips.

“I love you,” I said with a smile, my eyes watery and on the

verge of leaking like Niagara Falls.

Nate blew out a long breath and gave me one final hug. Then

he whispered, “See you soon.”

I didn’t look back at him as I followed my parents to the

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boarding desk. I didn’t even look back before heading down the

tunnel that took us onto our plane.

I didn’t want to remember him standing in the airport lounge

with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and his long, sun- kissed hair touching the tops of his shoulders.

That, back there, was good- bye, and good- bye was no longer

an option. Not in my world. I grinned. Not in my universe.

Nope. Good- bye didn’t exist.

• • •

December is a crazy month.

School winds down. Parties seem to take up every weekend.

Hanukkah. Christmas.
Birthdays.

Mine falls on the 20th, which was today, and I was glad my

parents had let it go without a big deal. I really hated big deals.

Besides, who had time for birthdays when there was still so

much to do for the holidays?

It was the Saturday before Christmas, and I’d spent most of it

shopping with my best friend, Kate. We’d spent a small fortune on each other— it’s so much easier to do when we can pick out our

own presents— and I had to search for the perfect gift for Gram.

She was arriving in two days, and I couldn’t wait to see her.

“Okay, I have, like, three bags of potato chips, cheese popcorn,

and Skor chocolate. What do you want first?” Kate asked.

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I tossed a pillow at Kate and made a face. “And you wonder

why you’ve got zits popping up on your chin.”

“Junk food has nothing to do with it,” Kate grinned.

“It’s called hormones.” She shoved a piece of chocolate in

her mouth. “Speaking of hormones, when is Mr. Gorgeous

Skyping this week?”

My frown deepened. “He’s working late for his uncle on

some big project. So maybe later tonight.”

“Huh,” she said and flopped down beside me. “I have
Love

Actually
or
The
Notebook
.”

I glanced over her shoulder. “Why don’t we do both?”

The doorbell went and I yelled, “Mom, the McGills are here.”

My parents were going to a Christmas party, so Kate and

I had the night ahead of us, and we intended to eat ourselves

into a stupor, high on chocolate and popcorn, and watch our

favorite movies.

The doorbell went again and I shoved off from the sofa. “Put

the movie in, Kate. I’ll be right back.”

We lived in a large, comfortable brownstone, but our living

space went up, not out. This meant that the family/TV room

was on the third floor, and by the time I got to the main level, I was breathing a little harder than I’d like.

“Mom,” I yelled over my shoulder one more time before

opening the door and standing back. It was cold out and snowy.

I shivered and then froze. Like really froze. Like my entire body was as still as a deer in the headlights.

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I think that maybe my world tilted a little off center. Or the

earth moved.

Or maybe my reality had just fallen in on itself and I was in a

different dimension. A dimension where my boyfriend, my hot,

sweet, amazing boyfriend was standing on the front stoop with

huge, feathery snowflakes glistening in his hair.

“Oh,” was all I managed to say.

I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to be that girl who falls

apart at the mere sight of the boy she loves.

But holy hell, I was that girl.

The tears started before I could stop them, and then his arms

were around me. We were laughing and kissing and crying, and

I didn’t want to open my eyes because I was so scared that it was all a dream.

“Hey,” he said softly, his lips nuzzling my ear.

I wriggled out of his arms. “What are you doing here? Oh my

God, Nathan. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

I glanced down in horror at my old sweats and the faded,

gray T- shirt that used to be white. I had on my bunny

slippers, my hair was in a ponytail, and— my hands flew

to my chin— there, where I knew he could see the white

zit paste.

The white zit paste that was smeared all over his cheek.

“Jesus, Monroe. You weren’t kidding. He’s hot.”

Kate came up behind me, and I heard my parents shuffling

behind her. I glanced back and saw that they’re weren’t dressed

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to go out. In fact, Dad had on his comfy pants, the ones where

the zipper was forever falling down.

“Nathan?”

God, I wished we were alone. He looked so handsome in his

dark jeans, boots, and heavy jean jacket. His beanie hung off

the back of his head, and I loved that there was a bit of stubble on his chin.

My heart squeezed.

“I brought someone to meet you.”

He moved aside and I saw a guy standing behind him. He

was tall and thin, but his grin was wide and his eyes were so blue they looked like they had the sky in them.

“Trevor?” I asked hesitantly.

He’d come out of his coma a few weeks into September. From

what Nathan had said, he had some problems, most of them to

do with his memory, but he’d made a slow and steady recovery.

He nodded. “The one and…only. Good…to finally meet

you. I’ve always wanted to come to New York so…I hope you

don’t mind.”

“No, I…” My tongue was so tied up I could barely talk. Oh

my God, I sounded like an idiot.

“Okay, this is nice, boys, but I’m not used to this kind

of cold. Do you mind moving so an old woman can get to

the heat?”

Trevor moved and Gram pushed past, kissing me quickly and

touching my cheek as she strode by. Again with the surprises.

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I wasn’t expecting her for two more days. “Happy birthday,

Monroe. You’re looking good. Living in the moment suits you.”

Nathan grabbed my hand again, and his touch zinged

through my entire body. I wasn’t just alive. I was on fire. I was where I wanted to be, with the people I wanted to be with.

Life, such as it was, was as perfect as it ever was going to get.

Gram was right.

But then, Gram was always right.

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Acknowledgments

This book, for so many reasons, means a lot to me. I’ve always

wanted to write a young adult novel— one my daughter and her

friends could read— and it feels amazing to have done so.

But it took a while, and I need to thank a few people who

helped along the way. First off, my writing buddies, Michelle

Rowen and Eve Silver. You both were so encouraging and

gracious that I’m not sure I could have gone down this road

without your prodding! Michelle, you rock the synopsis

tweaking, so thank you!

I also need to thank Leah Hultenschmidt for taking the

time to read a few chapters and for calling me right away with

an offer. Thanks for your thoughts and your drive to make

this book the best it could be. Aubrey Poole as well, thanks for

grabbing up the reins and helping me get the book all pretty

and shiny!

I also am grateful to have found a wonderful agent who I

trust implicitly and who has the great taste to be married to a

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musician! Sara Megibow, you’re truly a rock star, and I appre-

ciate all that you do for me.

Thanks also to the many bloggers, readers, and reviewers

who’ve had a hand in getting the word out about my books.

Again, so appreciated and I’m humbled daily at the generosity

of those in publishing!

Lastly, a big thank- you to my family, my husband Andrew,

my kids, Jake and Kristen, and my friends! You guys know and

accept the woman who, when under deadline, wears the same

sweat pants several days in a row and thinks microwave food is

“the best.” Thanks for hanging in there with me and seeing my

dreams come to fruition!

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About the Author

Juliana Stone fell in love with her first book boyfriend when she was twelve. The boy was Ned, Nancy Drew’s boyfriend, and it

began a lifelong obsession with books and romance. A tomboy

at heart, she split her time between baseball, books, and music—

three things that carried over into adulthood. She’s thrilled to be writing young adult as well as adult contemporary romance and

does so from her home somewhere in Canada.

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