Courtney Summers - Fall for Anything

This book is for:

My family

Sara Goodman

Emily Hainsworth

Amy Tipton

&

(always)

Lori Thibert

acknowledgments

I am more grateful to Amy Tipton and Sara Goodman than I can say. They are tireless advocates of my work, they guide my writing, they challenge me and inspire me to do better, and they also put up with a lot. Theyve made each of my books possible and its an honor to work with them. They have all my admiration and respect.

All my thanks to the wonderful folks at St. Martins Press, particularly Katy Hershberger, for everything they do on behalf of me and my books. I appreciate it tremendously.

I have a great family and cant imagine doing any part of this without them, which is why this book is dedicated to them! They are: Susan. David. Megan. Jarrad. Marion. Ken. Lucy. Bob. Damon. All my love and thanks.

Lori Thibert and Emily Hainsworths support, encouragement, and endless listening saved my life this time around. Needless to say, I owe them a lot. They are both amazing, but not just because of that. Im president of the Canadian chapter of their respective fan clubs.

Whitney Crispell, Kim Hutt, Baz Ramos, and Samantha Seals are strong, hilarious, passionate, amazing, incredible women and their friendship keeps me going. I am developing a plan where I somehow become all four of them when I grow up. Brilliant and sparkly!

An ocean of thanks to these people: Emily. Linda. Scott. Susan. Tiffany. Victoria. (Hi, Team!) Adele. Allie. Annika and Will. Brian. Briony. Carolyn. Daisy. Damon. Jessica. Kelvin. Nova. Tristan. Veronique.

I have to mention Lori one more time. There are about five thousand reasons she winds up in the dedication of every novel Ive written and I regret not having the space here to list them all. She is amazing and I aspire to her levels of generosity, patience, kindness, and talent. Im lucky to know her and to call her a friend. Thank you, Lori.

The publication of my novels has connected me to some of the most incredible readers, writers, and bloggers. Their love of and enthusiasm for young adult literature constantly awes me. I cant thank them enough for the time and support they have given to me and to my books.

There are always so many people to thank and not enough space to do it! Much gratitude and love to all of my family and friends.

Contents

My hands are dying.

I keep trying to explain it to Milo, but he just looks at me like Im crazy.

They dont feel warmthey havent. I squeeze the tips of my fingers as hard as I can, which hurts. Theyre not numb, though

Maybe you have that Raynauds disease, he says. He takes my right hand and studies my fingers. They seem healthy, pink. He shakes his head. Theyre not blue.

But theyre cold.

They feel warm to me.

They feel cold, I insist.

Okay, Eddie, he says. Theyre cold.

I jerk my hands from his and then I rub them together. Friction. Heat. Milo can say what he wants; theyre freezing. Its the hottest summer Branford has seen in something like ten years, but I havent been able to get my hands to warm up since it happened.

I hold them up again. They dont even look like my hands anymore. They dont even look like anything that could belong to me, even though theyre clearly attached.

Theyre different, I tell him.

Would you please put your hands down? he asks. Jesus.

My hands have changed. I catch Milo looking at them sometimes, and I see it on his face that theyre different, no matter what hes saying now.

Were at the park, sitting on the picnic tables, watching a summer world go by. Kids play in the fountain with their parents. Pant legs are rolled up and big hands are holding on to tiny hands, keeping them steady against the rush of water. The smell of burgers and fries is in the air; food. It reminds me the fridge at home is empty and I have to go grocery shopping today or my mom and I will starve. I dont even know how long the fridge has been that empty, but I noticed it today.

Whats in your fridge? I ask Milo.

Doesnt matter, he says. My mom isnt home.

Were stuck between my house and his lately. He hasnt been allowed to have girls at his place unsupervised since he hit puberty and I dont like hanging out at my place now.

Its too depressing.

Thats not why I asked. I have to go grocery shopping and I dont know what to get I rest my chin in my hands. And I really dont want to do it.

He hops off the picnic table. Lets just get it over with, okay?

We make our way out of the park and go to the grocery store. Ive barely stepped through the automatic doors when I decide it is The Saddest Place on Earth.

Everyone just looks sad.

We end up in produce. I give myself a headache over the kind of math you have to use to buy food, which you need to live. I dont even know what I want or what we need or how much I should be spending or whats reasonable to spend. EVERYTHING HERE IS A STEAL , if I believe the signs, but there are two grocery stores in Branford, so I dont know.

Its not hard, Milo says, but even he sounds kind of unsure.

It is hard. Ive never done this before.

I never had to.

We head to the frozen foods and I start shoving TV dinners into my cart and then I go to the dairy aisle and get cheese and bread because it seems less hopeless than TV dinners. And then I stand there, lost. Whats next? This is what grown-ups do.

Its such a waste of time.

Hey, Milo says. You here?

Im here, I say. I think.

I head back to the freezers and grab some frozen vegetables. I read somewhere theyre better for you than fresh because they were picked at a perfect moment in time and frozen in it. Fresh vegetables arent really fresh because as soon as theyre out of the ground and on their way to the grocery store, the best parts of them have already started to fade away.

I should get

I trail off and turn in the aisle, trying to ignore the sad faces shuffling past, and then I grab some ginger ale. Ginger ale is usually only for when were sick and I know were not technically sick, but every time Im at home, I feel like I could puke so that must be close enough.

When we step inside my house, all the lights are off.

It wouldnt be a big deal since its summer and its the middle of the day, but all the curtains are drawn too. Its like some kind of permanent dusk or twilight here nowthose two points in twenty-four hours where its too early or too late to do anything. Im discovering those moments feel like they go on forever. Milo reaches for the first light switch he sees, but I stop him and bring my finger to my lips. I keep it there until I hear it.

That voice.

Youd feel so much better if you had one room that was neat and clean

Enemy presence confirmed.

Now I just have to figure out how to sneak the groceries into the fridge and leave again before she notices Im here.

get Eddie to clean the living room up, start your day there every morning. Have your tea, center yourself, and let it motivate you into creating a new routine. You cant stagnate, Robyn. I was talking to Kevin about it. You have to force yourself to adjust , basically

Beth.

I back into Milo because all her voice makes me want to do is run, but our grocery bags rustle against each other, and just like that, its over for both of us.

Eddie? Beths voice is glass-edge sharp and goes straight up my spine. Milo rubs my shoulder with his free hand. Eddie? Is that you?

I turn on the light. Its me

We step into the kitchen. Beth is there, her arms crossed. Behind her, I glimpse my mother. Shes at the table, wrapped up in Dads old housecoat.