Jenny Han - Always and Forever, Lara Jean

I never thought Id write another book about Lara Jean, so I feel lucky to have one last opportunity to thank everyone whos helped me along the way. With all my heart, I would like to thank my agent, Emily van Beek, and the team at Folio; my editor Zareen Jaffery and my entire S&S family, but especially Justin Chanda, Anne Zafian, Chrissy Noh, Lucy Cummins, Mekisha Telfer, KeriLee Horan, Audrey Gibbons, Katy Hershberger, Candace Greene, Michelle Leo, and Dorothy Gribbin. Thank you also to my film agent, Michelle Weiner; my publicist, Brianne Halverson; and my assistant, Dan Johnson. I would also like to thank Jeannine Lalonde from UVA admissions and Vincent Briedis from UVA s athletics department. Thank you to my friends and fellow writers for reading this manuscript and offering me amazing notes and cheering me on every step of the waySiobhan Vivian, Adele Griffin, Jennifer E. Smith, Melissa Walker, and Anna Carey. I could not have done it without you.

And lastly, thank you to my readers. If not for you, I would not have written this book. Truly, this one is for you. My dearest wish is that you are happy and satisfied with the way Lara Jeans story ends. This time, I mean itit really is the end for me and Lara Jean. But shell live on in my heart, for theres always the bend in the road.

Jenny

ADAM KRAUSE

Jenny Han is the New York Times bestselling author of the Summer I Turned Pretty series; Shug ; the Burn for Burn trilogy, cowritten with Siobhan Vivian; and To All the Boys Ive Loved Before and P.S. I Still Love You . She is also the author of the chapter book Clara Lee and the Apple Pie Dream . A former childrens bookseller, she earned her MFA in creative writing at the New School. Visit her at dearjennyhan.com. Follow Jenny online on Twitter and Instagram at @JennyHan.

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Ive had a splendid time, she concluded happily, and I feel that it marks an epoch in my life. But the best of it all was the coming home.

L. M. M ONTGOMERY, Anne of Green Gables

I LIKE TO WATCH PETER when he doesnt know Im looking. I like to admire the straight line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone. Theres an openness to his face, an innocencea certain kind of niceness. Its the niceness that touches my heart the most.

Its Friday night at Gabe Riveras house after the lacrosse game. Our school won, so everyone is in very fine spirits, Peter most of all, because he scored the winning shot. Hes across the room playing poker with some of the guys from his team; he is sitting with his chair tipped back, his back against the wall. His hair is still wet from showering after the game. Im on the couch with my friends Lucas Krapf and Pammy Subkoff, and theyre flipping through the latest issue of Teen Vogue , debating whether or not Pammy should get bangs.

What do you think, Lara Jean? Pammy asks, running her fingers through her carrot-colored hair. Pammy is a new friendIve gotten to know her because she dates Peters good friend Darrell. She has a face like a doll, round as a cake pan, and freckles dust her face and shoulders like sprinkles.

Um, I think bangs are a very big commitment and not to be decided on a whim. Depending on how fast your hair grows, you could be growing them out for a year or more. But if youre serious, I think you should wait till fall, because itll be summer before you know it, and bangs in the summer can be sort of sticky and sweaty and annoying.... My eyes drift back to Peter, and he looks up and sees me looking at him, and raises his eyebrows questioningly. I just smile and shake my head.

So dont get bangs?

My phone buzzes in my purse. Its Peter.

Do you want to go?

No.

Then why were you staring at me?

Because I felt like it.

Lucas is reading over my shoulder. I push him away, and he shakes his head and says, Are you guys really texting each other when youre only twenty feet away?

Pammy crinkles up her nose and says, So adorable.

Im about to answer them when I look up and see Peter sweeping across the room toward me with purpose. Time to get my girl home, he says.

What time is it? I say. Is it that late already? Peters hoisting me off the couch and helping me into my jacket. Then he pulls me by the hand and leads me through Gabes living room. Looking over my shoulder, I wave and call out, Bye, Lucas! Bye, Pammy! For the record, I think you would look great with bangs!

Why are you walking so fast? I ask as Peter marches me through the front yard to the curb where his car is parked.

He stops in front of the car, pulls me toward him, and kisses me, all in one fast motion. I cant concentrate on my cards when you stare at me like that, Covey.

Sorry, I start to say, but he is kissing me again, his hands firm on my back.

When were in his car, I look at the dashboard and see that its only midnight. I say, I still have an hour until I have to be home. What should we do?

Of the people we know, Im the only one with an actual curfew. When the clock strikes one oclock, I turn into a pumpkin. Everyone is used to it by now: Peter Kavinskys Goody Two-shoes girlfriend who has to be home by one. Ive never once minded having a curfew. Because truly, its not like Im missing out on anything so wonderfuland whats that old saying? Nothing good happens after two a.m. Unless you happen to be a fan of watching people play flip cup for hours on end. Not me. No, Id much prefer to be in my flannel pajamas with a cup of Night-Night tea and a book, thank you very much.

Lets just go to your house. I want to come inside and say hi to your dad and hang out for a bit. We could watch the rest of Aliens . Peter and I have been working our way down our movie list, which consists of my picks (favorite movies of mine that hes never seen), his picks, (favorite movies of his that Ive never seen), and movies neither of us have seen. Aliens was Peters pick, and its turning out to be quite good. And even though once upon a time Peter claimed he didnt like rom coms, he was very into Sleepless in Seattle , which I was relieved for, because I just dont see how I could be with someone who doesnt like Sleepless in Seattle.

Lets not go home yet, I say. Lets go somewhere.

Peter thinks about it for a minute, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, and then he says, I know where we can go.

Where?

Wait and see, he says, and he puts the windows down, and the crisp night air fills the car.

I lean back into my seat. The streets are empty; the lights are off in most of the houses. Let me guess. Were going to the diner because you want blueberry pancakes.

Nope.

Hmm. Its too late to go to Starbucks, and Biscuit Soul Food is closed.

Hey, food isnt the only thing I think about, he objects. Then: Are there any cookies left in that Tupperware?

Theyre all gone, but I might have some more at home, if Kitty didnt eat them all. I dip my arm out the window and let it hang. Not many more nights left like these, where its cool enough to need a jacket.

I look at Peters profile out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes I still cant believe hes mine. The handsomest boy of all the handsome boys is mine, all mine.

What? he says.

Nothing, I say.

Ten minutes later, we are driving onto the University of Virginia campus, only nobody calls it campus; they call it Grounds. Peter parks along the side of the street. Its quiet for a Friday night in a college town, but its UVA s spring break, so a lot of kids are still gone.