The Infinite Moment of Us

Hey there,

I wrote this book in the hopes of exploring two things: 1) the intimacy that goes hand in hand with love, and 2) the vulnerability required of genuine intimacy. True love can change a person’s cellular makeup, it seems to me, but it takes many leaps of faith and a whole lot of trust to get there!

The novel is told from alternating points of view—first Wren’s and then Charlie’s, and so on—because it seemed like the best way to tell the story, for one thing, but also because this is a story of two worlds: a young woman’s and a young man’s. When Wren and

Charlie fall in love, they want nothing more than to get close to each other and understand each other, and the dual perspective hopefully allows the reader to get as close as possible to both of them as well.

Something else I should share: This book has sex in it. It’s not
about
sex, not exclusively, and I’m more interested in the mingling of Charlie’s and Wren’s souls than in the ways their bodies come together. But Charlie and Wren are eighteen, and their souls are housed in their bodies, and guess what? Their bodies are pretty awesome. (Charlie, I can tell you, is frickin’ gorgeous.) So, yeah, sex is part of the mix, and I trust that you, and teen readers, can handle it. A fellow writer recently said to me, “I would never want to write a young adult novel that I couldn’t comfortably hand to a twelve-year-old.” Well, I would. I do not ever want to underestimate my readers’ ability to take on “content”—and good Lord, what would we do if books
didn’t
have content! “Here you go, here’s a book with nothing in it. Enjoy!”

No. This is a book with plenty in it, and I hope reading it will be a pleasure (and not just in the titillating sense of the word). I hope it will remind you of love, and captures something genuine about love. I hope
you
love it.

xxx,

This is an advance, uncorrected proof. Not for resale.

Please do not quote without comparision with the finished book.

Amulet Books

New York

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Myracle, Lauren, 1969–

The infinite moment of us / by Lauren Myracle.

pages cm

Summary: As high school graduation nears, Wren Gray is surprised to connect with gentle Charlie Parker, a boy with a troubled past who has loved her for years, while she considers displeasing her parents for the first time and changing the plans for her future.

ISBN 978-1-4197-0793-3 (hardback)

[1. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 2. Love—Fiction. 3. Family life—

Georgia—Fiction. 4. Assertiveness (Psychology)—Fiction. 5. Atlanta (Ga.)—Fiction.]I. Title.

PZ7.M9955Inf 2013

[Fic]—dc23

2013017135

Text copyright © 2013 Lauren Myracle

Book design by Maria T. Middleton

Published in 2013 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

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c h a p t e r o n e

It was all ending: high school.

It was all beginning: everything that came next.

This was true for every senior at Atlanta’s Southview

High School, not just Wren. And every senior would be

setting off on his or her own path, and every senior’s path

would be different, so there were no earth-shattering sur-

prises there, either. Still, Wren’s situation was unusual, or

at least she suspected it was.

She didn’t always trust her own opinions, however,

probably because her parents were so invested in doing

her thinking for her. “Of course you like grapefruit juice,”

her mom said to her just this morning, drawing back in

dismay after Wren said she’d prefer coffee, please. “You’ve

always liked grapefruit juice. It’s your favorite. I got it

especially for you, fresh-squeezed, as a treat for the last

day of school.”

Wren drank the juice, ashamed of herself for complain-

ing. Except Wren hadn’t actually complained, had she?

She’d just said, “No thanks. I don’t really like grapefruit

juice.” Because she didn’t—did she?

Her dad stayed out of the grapefruit juice discussion,

but he had plenty to say on other topics, such as her plans

for the future. Particularly her plans for the future. Wren’s

body felt heavy, and she wished that her friend Tessa, who

was giving Wren a ride to school, would keep driving and

never turn back.

But that was a fantasy. Tessa couldn’t solve Wren’s prob-

lems for her. If Wren wanted to change her life, then she

was the one who’d have to make it happen.

Tessa pulled into the seniors’ parking lot and turned

off the car. She finger-combed her long blond hair, swiped

a coat of shiny lip gloss over her lips, and grinned at her

reflection in the visor mirror. She slapped the visor shut.

“You ready?” she said to Wren.

“Sure,” Wren said. Her gut clenched. “No—wait.”

Tessa stopped smiling. She’d been Wren’s best friend

since second grade, so she knew a bit about the ins and

outs of Wren’s home life. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“No, yeah, everything’s fine,” Wren said. “It’s just . . .

my mom made a special breakfast this morning. Bacon,

eggs, and biscuits.”

Tessa tilted her head.

“The biscuits were made from scratch. She used a heart-

shaped cookie cutter.”

“Ah,” Tessa said.

“Oh, and grapefruit juice, because that’s my favorite.”

“What? You hate grapefruit juice.”

“I know,” Wren said, feeling a wash of relief.

Tessa searched Wren’s expression. Occasionally, over

the years, kids had teased Wren about what an “only” Wren

was. Meaning an only child. Meaning that Wren, as an only

child, seemed more sheltered than most kids. She was a

people pleaser, a do-gooder, a worrier. She was too much

of a watcher, not enough of a doer. Those were Wren’s

offenses.

Tessa had been to Wren’s house, though. She knew

Wren’s mom and dad, so she knew that Wren’s behavior

was a product of more than being an only child.

“They think you’re part of them,” Tessa once said about

Wren’s parents. “Like a leg, or a spare arm. It’s
weird
.”

“I know,” Wren said. “But they love me.”

Tessa, who had two older brothers and lived with a

rush-about mom, had muttered, “A little too much, if you

ask me.”

Now, sitting in the high school parking lot, Tessa said,

“You haven’t told them?”

Wren shook her head. Way back in January, she’d been

admitted early decision to Emory, the prestigious univer-

sity where her mom worked. Then, in March, she found

out she’d been awarded a merit scholarship. Her parents

were over the moon.

“You can come home every weekend,” her mom ex-

claimed. “Or we can come to you. Weekdays, too, if you

feel like a home-cooked meal. Whatever you want, sweet-

heart.”

But a week ago, Wren withdrew her acceptance agree-

ment. She didn’t know where she’d found the courage,

but it felt good. Forget that, it felt great. Only, she kind

of hadn’t shared the news with her parents yet—the part

about Emory or the bit about what she planned to do

instead.

“My stomach hurts,” Wren told Tessa. She frowned, try-

ing to figure out what other emotions she might be feeling.

“I
am
excited, though.”

“About finally being free?” Tessa said. “You should be

excited. God, you deserve to be.” A friend of Tessa’s rapped

on the hood of Tessa’s car, and Tessa waved. Kids streamed

past them, laughing and talking. “Go with that, okay?”

“Okay,” Wren said, glad when her voice stayed steady.

“Thanks, Tesseract. Although you do know that there’s no

such thing as a tesseract.”

Tessa laughed at Wren’s slightly mangled version of the

quote, which was from Wren’s favorite novel,
A Wrinkle in
Time
. A tesseract was a four-dimensional cube, which, by definition, couldn’t exist in the three-dimensional world.

In the novel, a tesseract was used as a shortcut through

time, which, by definition, also couldn’t exist in the real

world.

Wren liked impossible things, though. Wren thought

that Tessa, who flitted through life like a hummingbird, was

an impossible thing. Tessa came across as go-go-go and all

toe-bouncing high energy, but underneath her party-girl

exterior, she had a wise and loyal heart. She came as close

to knowing the real Wren as anyone ever had.

“No such thing as me?” Tessa said, gesturing like a game-

show hostess at the physical proof of her existence. She

looked adorable in a pink cami and cutoffs. “I think you’re

mistaken. So, shall we go greet our adoring fans?”

Wren smiled. “
Your
adoring fans? Let’s do it.”

They joined the throng of kids strolling toward the

building. The warm spring air tickled Wren’s legs, bare

beneath her white skirt, which grazed the tops of her

knees. The pressure in her lungs loosened.

“Can you believe it?” said Delaney, a drama club friend

who was off to New York in the fall. “Can you believe we’re

seriously done?!”

“Hells no,” Tessa replied. “And yet here we are!”

Shaniqua Stewart bounded over and draped her arm

over Wren’s shoulders. “Hey, girl. You psyched about

Emory?”

Wren smiled self-consciously. Shaniqua was one of her

honors-track buddies. “Are you psyched about Princeton?”

she shot back. “You’re probably packed already, huh?”

Shaniqua laughed. To Tessa, she said, “And you. Don’t

go too crazy at Georgia—except, what am I saying? Of

course you will.”

Tessa blew her a kiss. At the end of August, Tessa would

head to the University of Georgia with almost half their

senior class.

“Tessa! Wren!” Owen Bussell shouted, making a mega-

phone out of his hands. Owen was the class valedictorian.

On Saturday, at their graduation, he’d be giving a speech.

“You’re looking fine, ladies!”

“Right back atcha, O,” Tessa called. “Don’t bore us on

Saturday!”

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

A group of girls spread the news about a party P.G.

Barbee was hosting on Saturday night. “Y’all know P.G.,

right?” one of them said, and Tessa, with significant innu-

endo, replied, “Oh, we
know
P.G.”

Wren rolled her eyes, because they didn’t, really, and

Wren had little interest in doing anything to change that.

Right now Wren could see P.G. chatting up a freshman girl,

who giggled at everything he said. The girl leaned against

the wall of the main building, and P.G. stood in front of

her, his forearms resting on either side of her like a cage.

P.G. was too slick for Wren’s tastes, but he was Tes-

sa’s current crush, so it wasn’t surprising when Tessa

announced, “Hells yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Excellent,” one of the party girls said. “It’s going to be

epic.” She palmed Tessa’s hand, and Tessa’s feather earrings

swayed.

While Tessa chatted with some of her cheerleader

friends, Paige Johnson jogged over and said hi to Wren.

Paige and Wren had been friends once, way back in ele-

mentary school, but they’d gone their own ways long ago.

Paige gave Wren a bear hug and whispered, “I want to tell

you something, but it might sound strange.”

“What is it?” Wren said.

“It’s just, I’ve always looked up to you,” Paige said, pull-

ing back and searching Wren’s eyes. Her breath smelled