Zip (28 page)

“We’ve been investigating the Austin city bylaws and we discovered a loophole.”

Lyssa held her breath as Michael continued

“Back in 1973, Austin passed a law that no family home left to the community in a will can be torn down without express consent from the living descendants. Now, we happen to have the last living descendant of Ana Lee right here.”

Michael knelt on the stage next to Lyssa

“Lyssa,” he said. “What do you think? Should we let the Austin Real Estate Corporation. tear this place down?”

“No!” Lyssa shouted. Once again, the audience began to cheer. Michael picked Lyssa up and spun her around the stage. Her wig fell off and her braids whipped out behind her

A man twice Michael’s size in a hard hat stormed up the stairs. He started shouting at Michael, but Michael simply set Lyssa back down on the stage and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He handed it to the man in the hard hat, pointing to a section that Lyssa could see had been highlighted. The bylaws. As the man read, his face grew redder and redder. Finally, he took off his
hard hat and threw it on the stage. Michael picked it up and tossed it into the crowd. With more cheers, the people below threw it back and forth, like it was a beach ball

“All right, Scooting Star,” Michael said, turning to Lyssa “Let’s get out of here.”

“How did you know about the development company?” Lyssa asked, following Michael down the steps. Behind them, Chloe started in on the drums again and Athena began singing Lyssa’s favorite song, “Tricks.”

“I’ve known about it for months,” Michael said. “That’s what I’ve been doing in my room every night. Searching the bylaws, looking for a loophole. You didn’t think I’d let them take away your mom’s garden, did you?”

Lyssa started to get that firecracker feeling inside her chest again. She had no words for what she wanted to say to Michael. She could only reach out for his hand and squeeze.

Together they wove through the cheering crowd and walked back into the garden. Lyssa led them back to the rickety bench that she and her mom had built themselves. She leaned over to study the right leg, quickly finding the heart she and her mom had carved on the back. She traced the lines with her finger

“How did you know I’d be here?” she asked, sitting back up. Michael laughed

“Penn. She admitted that you found out about the
demolition, and I knew you’d find some way to make it back here. You’re a lot more like your mom than you’ll ever know

“Besides,” he added, pulling a newspaper out of his back pocket. “I had this trail to guide me to you.”

Frowning, Lyssa took the newspaper from Michael and stared down at the pictures. Four pictures showed tomato plants growing in the strangest places: up and down the marina in Kirkland, behind a motel whirlpool, along the side of a salty lake

“You must’ve been leaking seeds everywhere you went,” Michael said, pointing to the photos. “People have been discovering your tomatoes all along the west side of the country. You’re inspiring people, Lyssa. Just like your mom always did. It’s all right here in the story.”

Lyssa felt her smile stretch ear to ear. “Maybe we can plant some more when we get back to…when we get back home.”

Michael cleared his throat, then slipped off his glasses and wiped them on his T-shirt. It was the first time Lyssa had ever called his house in Kirkland home. She liked the way it sounded

“We could do that,” he said. For a moment they sat together in silence. Lyssa reached up and slipped her hand into Michael’s

“Your mom isn’t going anywhere, Lyssa,” he said. He looked up at the sky. “And if there’s anything I can do to help you remember her, you just let me know.”

The grandmother cat jumped onto the bench. It stretched its neck, rubbing its face on Lyssa’s arm. She scratched the cat under her chin

“You could get my grandmother some coffee,” she said finally. Michael glanced down at the cat, then leaned over and rubbed her behind the ears

“Right. Let’s go, then.” Michael folded the newspaper article up and started to put it in his back pocket

“Wait,” Lyssa said. “Can I keep that?”

“Sure.” Michael picked up her backpack and unzipped it, pulling out the school journal Lyssa had been writing in for the past several days. “Oh, hey!” he said, flipping through the pages. “You finished your school project.”

“What? No I…” Lyssa started to say, but she let her sentence trail off when she looked down at the journal. All her letters to Penn added up to a story of how she’d spent her summer. Plus, there was the recipe for peanut butter and banana brownies and Circe’s PB&J, and the receipt from the costume shop, and a bus ticket stub from her ride to Oregon. Stuck to a few of the pages were the last of the tomato seeds. It was like a big scrapbook of all her adventures

“Wow, Lyssa. This is very creative.” Grinning, Michael placed the newspaper article between the last pages and snapped the journal shut. “I think your teachers are going to love it.”

He handed the journal back to Lyssa and she tucked it, carefully, inside her backpack. Lyssa picked up the cat and, together, she and Michael headed to the house. Not too far in the distance, she heard a thousand voices coming together, singing

Everything was perfect. Everything except…

“Hey, Michael,” Lyssa said. She shifted the grandmother cat’s weight in her arms. “I forgot to tell you. Zip…I mean, you know my scooter?”

Michael raised an eyebrow over his glasses. “Yeah?”

“Well, it’s just…it’s kind of broken.”

“Do you want me to help you build a new one?”

“Actually,” Lyssa said, giving the grandmother cat an extra squeeze, “I was thinking you could help me build a bike. A yellow one. Maybe it can be my birthday present.”

“I think we can work that out.” Smiling, Michael put a hand on Lyssa’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We can even race each other around the lake—after you’re done being grounded, of course.”

4–6 cups oats

1 cup each of:

Pour oats into a very large bowl and add remaining dry ingredients. Add oil and honey. Mix well by hand and pour onto 4 cookie sheets in shallow layer. If Grandmother Cat is nearby, have her taste. She always knows when to add more coconut

Bake at 250° F for 1 to 2 hours, until golden brown. Stir occasionally

Thanks to Lauren Oliver, for plucking me out of the submissions pile and seeing the humor in comparing mountains and trees to tacos. I don’t think I’d have found Lyssa’s voice without you. Also, a resounding thanks to Lexa Hillyer and Rhoda Belleza and the entire team at Paper Lantern Lit for everything that they’ve done to bring Lyssa’s world to life. You guys rock my world! Also, thanks to Stephen Barbara, who found
Zip
the absolute perfect home.

More thanks to Laura Arnold, who’s been a dream to work with and who turned every new revision into a scavenger hunt of “Now how can I make this even better?” I can’t even really picture what this book was before you.

Now on to my fabulous first readers: A big, sloppy thanks to my very good friend Lucy Randall, who proofread chapters for me and loved
Zip
from the beginning, and made me feel like the world’s biggest rock star when I sold it. More thanks to Jon VanZile for trading e-mails with me in the early days and for
telling me that maybe I just needed to make the whole thing “bigger.” Big enough yet, Jon?

I’ve been lucky beyond belief to find critique partners who’ve read, loved, and challenged my writing. Many of them haven’t read
Zip
yet, but the advice they’ve given over the years has stuck with me as I’ve worked to bring this book to life. So Andrew Stoute, Tim Fletcher, Jon VanZile (again!), Leah Konen, Anna Hecker, and Micol Ostow’s entire YA Advanced Writing Class, thank you!

Lastly, thanks to my amazing family. To say that you’ve been supportive is such an understatement. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you guys. And, finally, thank you to Ron, for all of the things I won’t ever be able to put into words.