Maybe it was always going to happen this way.
“I was literally just thinking about how annoying you are,” she says, and he looks amused.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I don’t hear anything at all, and then you just show up out of nowhere right as I arrive—wait, how did you even know I’d be here?”
“You told me,” he says. “Besides, who else would have a meeting with the dean on the very first day of classes?”
She’s still staring like she’s not totally certain it’s him. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you’d be halfway around the world by now.”
“Well, I’ve got to go back in a few weeks to do some interviews….”
“And then?”
“Exactly,” he says, beaming at her. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“No, that letter was all you. And it was amazing. But, hey,” she says, smacking him on the arm so that he laughs and ducks away, “why didn’t you write back about the film?”
“Because,” he says, “I thought it would be better to tell you in person.”
She frowns. “Tell me what?”
“How much I loved it.”
“You did?” she asks, brightening. They’re both smiling so hard that they’re on the verge of laughter. “Really?”
“Yes. But it doesn’t matter what I think.” His eyes are shining, and it makes Mae feel dizzy to look at him, makes her wonder if this is actually real. “It only matters thatyouloved it. And I can tell you did.”
“How?”
“I can just tell when you love something,” he says, and then she takes a step closer, and his arms are around her and their lips meet, and right then it doesn’t matter if this is a hello or a goodbye, if they’re making a memory or a promise, because they’re here together, and that’s enough for now.
“What?” he says when she pauses to look up at him.
She smiles. “I can tell with you too.”
Any field notes on gratitude have to start with my agent, Jennifer Joel, who has been such an amazing advocate and incredible friend over the years. I’m also enormously grateful to my editor, Kate Sullivan, for being so enthusiastic about this book from the start, and for making it better every step of the way.
I feel very lucky to be published by Delacorte Press, and I’m especially fortunate to work with Beverly Horowitz and Barbara Marcus, who are both so wonderful. I’m also very thankful to everyone there who had a role in turning this messy pile of words into a hard rectangular object: Alexandra Hightower, Judith Haut, Jillian Vandall, Barbara Bakowski, Colleen Fellingham, Tamar Schwartz, Alison Impey, Liz Casal Goodhue, Adrienne Waintraub, Kristin Schulz, Dominique Cimina, Kate Keating, and Cayla Rasi, among others.
As always, I’m grateful to everyone at ICM, especially Binky Urban, Josie Freedman, John DeLaney, Heather Bushong, and Nicolas Vivas. And to Stephanie Thwaites, Roxane Edouard, Georgina Simmonds, and Isobel Gahan at Curtis Brown. In the UK, it’s been a joy to work with Rachel Petty, Sarah Hughes, George Lester, Venetia Gosling, and Kat McKenna at Macmillan.
A great big thank-you to those friends who read early drafts or acted as sounding boards or just generally offered a whole lot of wisdom and support throughout this process: Jenny Han, Kelly Mitchell, Sarah Mlynowski, Jenni Henaux, Lauren Graham, Morgan Matson, and Anna Carey.
And lastly, to Dad, Mom, Kelly, Errol, Andrew, and Jack: the best bunch of train enthusiasts I know.
Jennifer E. Smithis the author of eight novels for young adults, includingWindfallandThe Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight.She earned a master’s degree in creative writing from the University of St.Andrews in Scotland, and her work has been translated into thirty-three languages. She lives in New York City. Follow her on Twitter at@JenESmithor visit her at jenniferesmith.com.
When the man behind the counter asks for my lucky number, I hesitate.
“You must have one,” he says, his pen hovering over the rows of bubbles on the form. “Everyone does.”
But the problem is this: I don’t believe in luck.
At least not the good kind.
“Or it could be anything, really,” he says, leaning forward on the counter. “I just need five numbers. And here’s the trick. The big secret. You ready?”
