Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (20 page)

BOOK: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda
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But my bed is made. So that's where we sit, leaning against the wall with our legs stretched forward.

“When you email me,” he says, “where are you?”

“Usually here. Sometimes at the desk.”

“Huh,” he says, nodding. And then I lean over and kiss him softly on the neck, just below his jaw. He turns to me and swallows.

“Hi,” I say.

He smiles. “Hi.”

And then I kiss him for real, and he kisses me back, and his hands fist my hair. And we're kissing like it's breathing. My stomach flutters wildly. And somehow we end up horizontal, his hands curved up around my back.

“I like this,” I say, and my voice comes out breathless. “We should do this. Every day.”

“Okay.”

“Let's never do anything else. No school. No meals. No homework.”

“I was going to ask you to see a movie,” he says, smiling. When he smiles, I smile.

“No movies. I hate movies.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really, really. Why would I want to watch other people kissing,” I say, “when I could be kissing you?”

Which I guess he can't argue with, because he pulls me in closer and kisses me urgently. And suddenly, I'm hard, and I know he is, too. It's thrilling and strange and completely terrifying.

“What are you thinking about?” Bram says.

“Your mom.”

“Noooo,” he says, laughing.

But I actually am. Specifically, her Every Time Including Oral rule. Because it only now occurs to me that the rule might apply to me. At some point. Eventually.

I kiss him briefly on the lips.

“I really do want to take you out,” he says. “If you didn't hate all movies, what would you want to see?”

“Anything,” I say.

“But probably a love story, right? Something Simonish, with a happy ending.”

“Why does no one ever believe I'm a cynic?”

“Hmm.” He laughs.

I let my body relax on top of his, my head tucked into the crook of his neck. “I like no endings,” I say. “I like things that don't end.”

He squeezes me tighter and kisses my head, and we lie there.

Until my phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans. Alice.
Exiting the highway. Be ready
.

Roger that. Thanks, Paul Revere
. I rest my phone on Bram's chest while I type.

Then I kiss him again quickly, and we both stand up and stretch. And then we each spend some time in the bathroom. But by the time my family gets home, we're sitting on the love seat in the living room with a pile of textbooks between us.

“Oh, hi,” I say, looking up from a work sheet. “How was it? Bram came over to study, by the way.”

“And I'm sure you were very productive,” my mom says. I press my lips together. And Bram quietly coughs.

I can tell from her expression that a conversation is coming. Some kind of awkward discussion about ground rules. Some kind of big deal.

But maybe this is a big deal. Maybe it's a holy freaking huge awesome deal.

Maybe I want it to be.

Acknowledgments

There are so many people who left beautiful fingerprints all over this book, and who deserve more thanks and recognition than I can possibly express. I am forever grateful to . . .

. . . Donna Bray, my genius editor, who completely gets Simon's sense of humor, and who knows this story inside and out. Thank you for adoring and embracing Simon from day one. I was so blown away by the depth, texture, and wisdom of your feedback. It strengthened this book to a degree I didn't imagine was possible.

. . . Brooks Sherman, the extraordinary agent who was the first to believe in this book, and who sold it in four days like a ninja. You are part oracle, part editor, part psychologist, and part living proof that Slytherins are wonderful people. Thanks for being such a tremendous champion for my work, such an
all-around badass, and such an amazing friend.

. . . Viana Siniscalchi, Emilie Polster, Stef Hoffman, Caroline Sun, Bethany Reis, Veronica Ambrose, Patty Rosati, Nellie Kurtzman, Margot Wood, Alessandra Balzer, Kate Morgan Jackson, Molly Motch, Eric Svenson, and the rest of the team at B+B and Harper, for your endless enthusiasm and incredibly hard work (and for Suman Seewat, for championing me so hard at Harper Canada!). Many thanks, too, to Alison Klapthor and Chris Bilheimer, for the cover of my dreams.

. . . the awesome and amazingly collaborative team at the Bent Agency, especially Molly Ker Hawn and Jenny Bent. Thanks, too, to Janet Reid and the gang at FinePrint—plus Alexa Valle, who got the ball rolling. Also so grateful for my wonderful publicist, Deb Shapiro.

. . . my brilliant and incredibly supportive team at Penguin/Puffin UK, including Jessica Farrugia Sharples, Vicky Photiou, Ben Horslen, and especially Anthea Townsend (with extra whoops). Wildly thankful, too, to all of my foreign publishing teams for believing in this book and working so hard to bring it to life overseas.

. . . Kimberly Ito, my very first reader and my platonic Blue. I'll never be able to thank you enough for your wisdom, support, and sense of humor.

. . . Beckminavidera (which includes the following geniuses: Adam Silvera, David Arnold, and Jasmine Warga). Worming my way into your cult was the smartest thing I ever did. How
would I have survived without our epic email threads, Oreo debates, and collective Elliott Smith worship?

. . . Heidi Schultz, for supplying endless sisterly wisdom and making me crave all the desserts.

. . . the Atlanta Writers Club for the opportunity to attend your extraordinary conference and critique groups—especially George Weinstein and the hilarious, brilliant minds of Team Erratica: Chris Negron, Emily Carpenter, and Manda Pullen.

. . . the Fearless Fifteeners and my many other friends in the writing community who laughed with me, supported me, advised me, and kept me sane. Many thanks, too, for the incredible librarians, bloggers, publishing professionals, and booksellers who have blown me away with their support—with extra Oreos for Diane Capriola! Thanks for making me feel so welcome in this community from day one.

. . . my heroes, Andrew Smith, Nina LaCour, Tim Federle, and Alex Sanchez, who slayed me with their books, and then slayed me again by blurbing mine.

. . . the brilliant teenagers, kids, adults, and families I've worked with during my years as a practicing psychologist. Thanks in particular to the students at Kingsbury, who never let me get away with being old and out of touch.

. . . the extraordinary teachers I've had over the years, especially Molly Mercer, for being more than moderately badass, and for being the best, most important teacher of my life.

. . . my Riverwood High School theater friends, whose
influence on my life and on this book cannot be overstated (especially Sarah Beth Brown, Ricky Manne, and Annie Lipsitz). Thanks, too, to the many other friends who inspired and supported me more than they even know: Diane and the entire Blumenfeld family, Lauren Starks, Jaime Hensel and the entire Hensel family, Jaime Semensohn, Betsy Ballard, Nina Morton, the Binswangers, the Shumans, and so many others—and to the Takoma Mamas, who saved my life in five million tiny ways.

. . . My family: Molly Goldstein, Adele Thomas, Curt and Gini Albertalli—plus so many more Goldsteins, Albertallis, Thomases, Bells, Bermans, Wechslers, Levines, and Witchels. Thanks, too, to Gail McLaurin and Kevin Saylor for ongoing support. Finally, huge thanks to my stepmother, Candy Goldstein, and my stepbrothers, William Cotton and Cameron Klein.

. . . Eileen Thomas, my mom, who has always treated my life like a holy awesome big deal; to Jim Goldstein, the original badass, hardcore, hipster dad; to my sister, Caroline Goldstein, who rocked the trash can costume for Purim and knows about Coke bottle mouth; and to my brother, Sam Goldstein, whose preschool-era Pokémon stories are better (and more vulgar) than anything I could ever write.

. . . my sons, Owen and Henry Albertalli, whom I love wholly and ridiculously. Learning who you are and watching you grow are the greatest privileges of my life.

. . . my husband, Brian Albertalli, who is my absolute best friend and partner in crime, and who owns the other half of my brain. There wouldn't be a book without you. You are my shore worth swimming to. You are my big deal.

. . . Edgardo Menvielle, Cathy Tuerk, Shannon Wyss, and the many other clinicians and volunteers who change lives daily through the CNMC Gender and Sexuality program. Thanks for all that you do, and thanks for welcoming me with open arms.

. . . and to the extraordinary LGBT and gender-nonconforming children and teens in my life (and your extraordinary families): you blow me away with your wisdom, humor, creativity, and courage. You probably already guessed this, but I wrote this book for you.

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