Authors: Lynne Matson
My hands were shaking, so I set my backpack on the porch. I strained to hear footsteps over the rain.
There was no answer.
My heart sank, wondering if I’d screwed up the house number, knowing I hadn’t. But maybe she wasn’t home. Leaning close to the door, I called, “Charley?”
Two very long seconds passed, then the door flew open. Charley stood in the doorway, her dark hair tumbling around her face. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt, she looked as long and lean and gorgeous as ever, but her eyes were hollow, stealing my hello.
“Thad?” Charley’s face drained of color.
“Miss me?” I said, breaking into a grin.
Charley didn’t move. “You died. I stole your gate.” Her lower lip was raw, like she’d been biting it for weeks.
“Nope. That one was yours.” I grinned as Charley’s eyes narrowed. “Mine was next. Nil offered up a triple dip.”
Because I finally gave up what I wanted most—you.
My throat tightened. “And here I am.”
“You are in
so
much trouble,” she said, throwing herself into my arms. It was the moment I’d been living for: Charley in my arms, here in this world, and for an instant, the reality was as unreal as Nil. “What took you so long?” Her voice shook.
“I stopped for cookies,” I whispered in her ear. “Chocolate chip. Sorry they’re not homemade.”
“I thought you’d died,” she said, hitting my collarbone with her fist. “That I’d lost you. I thought—” Her fist pressed hard against me, she broke off, her voice full of hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gently covering her fist with my hand. “I came as fast as I could.”
“Fifty-one days,” Charley murmured into my shoulder. But she didn’t move away. “Fifty-one days, Mr. Blake. Did you forget how to e-mail? Or use a phone?”
“My accommodations were a little sparse. No wi-fi and terrible guest services.”
“Hilarious.” She stiffened in my arms. “Fifty-one days, and all you can say is that you had bad guest services?”
“It’s true. I woke up naked in Pakistan, and they didn’t exactly roll out the welcome wagon.” Flashbacks of a time darker than Nil slammed into my head, making me shudder. “And yesterday I called, but your dad thought I was a reporter. He hung up on me.”
“Sorry,” she said, relaxing. “He’s a little protective these days.”
“I don’t blame him.” I held her close, still stunned that Nil had given me this moment. “Am I still in trouble?” I whispered.
“Tons.” Lifting one hand, she touched my cheek. Tentative, then exploring. “I can’t believe you’re alive,” Charley murmured. “That you’re
here
.”
“Hey,” I tilted up her chin so I could see her eyes. “I promised, remember?”
“I remember.” She smiled, her eyes brighter than Nil’s sun. “I remember everything.”
“I love you, Charley with an
e-y
.” Lowering my lips to hers, I kissed her, because I refused to waste a minute. Nil had taught me that. But Nil was then; Charley was now.
“Do you know what day it is?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I grasped for the date, fighting Nil déjà vu. “January fifth?”
Laughing, Charley shook her head. “It’s Day One,” she said. “It’s
our
Day One.”
And with that, Nil’s shadow vanished; the tick-tock was gone. All I felt was the sweet stoke of a future without limits.
“Day One,” I agreed, pulling Charley close. “Of forever.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Huge thanks to the following people that brought
Nil
into this world:
My amazing editor, Kate Farrell, for falling in love with
Nil
, for her spot-on insight, and for her sweetness and reassurance. I know how lucky I am. I can’t imagine
Nil
without Kate’s brilliant eye and guiding hand. Cookies for life are on me.
The entire Macmillan team for their kindness and endless enthusiasm, for my gorgeous book cover, and for all the things the Macmillan/Henry Holt powerhouse did behind the scenes to make
Nil
the very best it could be. I’m ever grateful.
My copy editor, Ana Deboo, who suffered through my painful Day time line and deserves all the hugs for her work.
Samantha Mandel, who helped pull everything together in too many ways to count.
My rock-star agent, Jennifer Unter, for taking a chance on me, for making my publishing dream a reality, for her encouragement and guidance, and for being the best agent-cheerleader ever. Jennifer, you are truly made of awesome.
Charles Martin, an incredibly gifted writer who kindly shared his time and wisdom with me early on, and who advised, “Write another book.” I did—and that book was
Nil
. Thank you, Charles. I’m so grateful I had your advice to take.
My critique partners and writer friends: Jessie Harrell, who read
Nil
first and supported it from day one; Tonya Kuper, who shares my brain and read
Nil
almost as many times as me; Natalie Whipple, who is kind and gave
Nil
the push it needed; Jay C. Spencer, who made Thad more real and gave me Crispy Crunches; Laura Stanford, who loved the story and fought for the piglet; Lindsay Currie, who amazes me with her insight and saw things I didn’t; and Becky Wallace, who reads as fast as me and is brilliant. I am so grateful that
Nil
gave me each of you.
My friends and cheerleaders: Kelly Anderson, Leigh Smith, and Christy Gillam, who read the (awful) early drafts of my first novel and still read more manuscripts later; Phaedra Avret, Gina Donahoo, Mary Claire Miller, Julie Cofran, Avery Williams, Kat Miller, and Marchie Surface, who read my second drafts and fueled my hope; Amy Grant and Sims Wachholz, who never doubted and who might be as excited as me; Allison, Lindsey, Virginia, Cathleen, Susannah B., Margaret, Heather, Susannah D., Mary, Natalie, Kasie, Erin, Nicole, Kim, Rebecca H., Michele, Debbie K., Annie, Rebecca C., Meg, Darden, and the sweet friend who I forgot due to writer’s brain—I treasure every word of encouragement you’ve given me. I love you all.
The YA Valentines, for riding the 2014 debut roller coaster with me. I’m honored to be on this crazy train with you.
My teen readers, Mary Caroline Gillam and Porter Grant, who are the best.
My writer friends on Twitter, members of the #NILtribe, book bloggers, and my readers everywhere, for your incredible enthusiasm and support. You made
Nil
come alive.
My sister, Kristin Sziarto, who always believed. I love you, Ki.
My dad, who gave me my first Anne McCaffrey novel. I miss you, Dad.
My amazing family: Mom, Penny, Bev, Beepsy, Johnny, Jim, Grandma, Mark, Jill, Kerri, Blake, Ryan, Baz and Max, for loving me. I love y’all bunches.
My boys, Caden, Christian, Davis, and Cooper, for sharing me with Charley and Thad, and for making every day an adventure. I love each of you beyond measure.
And Stephen, my love-at-first-sight, my best friend, and my wing man, for reading everything I write and for being my biggest fan ever. I’m so glad I took Astronomy. I do, always.
Lynne Matson
grew up in Georgia in a house full of books and a backyard full of gnarly pines. She attended the University of Florida, where she met and married her husband, the cutest boy she’s ever seen. Now Lynne is mother to four amazing boys. After a career as an attorney, Lynne is thrilled to be making her debut in YA fiction.
Text copyright © 2014 Lynne Mason
Henry Holt and Company, LLC
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available
eISBN 9780805097726
First hardcover edition 2014
eBook edition November 2014