Love and Other Foreign Words (24 page)

Soon I find myself standing between the gray marble foyer and the raspberry-carpeted living room, looking toward the smattering of guests congregating in the front hall, taking a breather from the crowds and the music. A few guests I recognize. One in particular smiles at me—a hesitant smile, unsure as he is of my response. It's Stu.

I march straight to him, or straight-ish, anyway, twisting my ankle once but remaining, inelegantly, upright. I grab him by the wrist and lead him through a corner of the living room, out the French doors, and onto a side patio, crowded with guests in the spring and summer but now empty and quiet and cold.

“Josie,” Stu says, promptly taking off his tuxedo coat and wrapping it around my shoulders.

“Just listen,” I order him. “I've been working this out, and this is as far as I've gotten. I miss you.” I blink a few times, clear my throat. Stu grins at me. “I miss everything about you. Okay. Okay. The kiss changed everything. It did. You know that. And, yes, I admit, in the most scientific terms, it wigged me out, but only because I was not expecting it, so I wasn't prepared, and you should have known that I wouldn't be. And you know how I dislike surprises. But I'm not sorry you did it. You are my best friend in the world, the one person outside my family who understands me, and the one person in the world who makes the most sense to me without either one of us having to translate a thing. I have deep, strong feelings for you that just got deeper and stronger when you weren't there, and I don't know if that's love, but I know I am willing to risk what we have to find out, to be able to say to you, one day, eventually, that I love you, because it's worth the risk, you're worth it, and I want you in my life forever.”

“Josie.”

“Yes?”

“You talk too much,” he says, and he kisses me, and it feels new and familiar at the same time, his lips pressing gently, then firmly, then gently again against mine, our breathing becoming one breath, his hands touching my face as if this is the first time he's ever touched me. And all so natural, so seamless, so graceful—even for me—that it feels like we've done this a thousand times before, even though we've both waited a very long time for this. I don't know how long we kiss. I only know I don't want it to end, but when it does, I know there will be more times like this.

I lean back while he puts his arms around me, and I ask, “So what do we do until we reach eventually?”

“We work it out,” he says.

“I can work just about anything out.”

“That's what I hear,” he says, and we kiss a little longer, while eventually seems nearer than ever before.

“Come dance with me,” he says, taking my hand, and someday I'll explain to him that I already am.

Stu leads me onto the dance floor, where I step effortlessly—Pperfectly—into his arms, and after just a few seconds, we turn so that I now see the large screen above the fireplace onto which are projected shots of Kate. Kate in a highchair. Kate on a swing. Kate in pigtails. Kate in braces. Kate graduating high school. Kate graduating college.

I gasp.

The room freezes as
Queen Kate on the Throne
appears on the screen, and above the music, she screams, “Josie, you little monster!”

And I say to Stu, “What do you know? Kate was right. Senior year is turning out to be the best.”

Acknowledgments

My heartfelt thanks, with hugs and smiles, to my agent, Faye Bender, for her support of and belief in both this book and me, and also for phone calls, e-mails—and especially sticky notes—that made me laugh out loud. And also for introducing me to my editor, Jess Garrison, whose guidance and insights made this book so much better. Thank you, Jess!

Thanks also to my dear friend Libby Marx for acting as my pop culture consultant, to Kristin Boes for her valuable critique, and to Jeff Salon for taking the time to explain the work-life of drug reps to me.

To my OHYA friends: Rae Carson, Julia DeVillers, Lisa Gerber, Margaret Peterson Haddix, Lisa Klein, Edith Pattou, and Natalie Richards. There were difficult times during the writing of this book when I would have been lost without you. Thank you so much for being so wonderful! You are the best!

Great big thanks to Denny Fultz, Alex Li, Lori Moomaw, Lisa Martinuzzi, Jack Johnson, Leslie and Matt Marx, Dennis Adams, M. Theadelphi, and my mother, Bunny Hardy, for letting me share book news with you and for celebrating with me.

And very special and continued thanks to my husband, Tim, who gave me invaluable insight into general guyness for this book, and who also wrote a few of Stu's lines and even a couple of Josie's. And who keeps me laughing through all the ups and downs of this writing life we share.