Authors: Barry Lyga
I never understood that. I don't know if I understand it now.
I'm not going to be like Simone and sleep with a guy just because I like him and I think it'll make him like me. That just cheapens what's really going on because he's the one. He's the guy Dr. Kennedy was talking about, the person who doesn't just appreciate what I do, but appreciates why I do it and how I do it.
When I shaved my head, he liked it. Simone and Jecca just went along with it.
Fanboy liked my new look. Sim and Jecca just used it for themselves.
And I've been thinking about what you told me, about how the opposite of love isn't hate. So if I hated Fanboy because I thought he'd forgotten me ... If I was able to be that angry at him, doesn't it mean I've cared about him all along?
I don't know how he feels about me. I mean, I think I have a pretty good idea, but I'm not a hundred percent sure and you can't
assume
things when it comes to stuff like this. But that's OK. I have time to work it out.
I always thought love made you weak, Mom. And I thought that love made everyone weak.
You know what? I was
right.
Love
does
make you weak. So there.
But...
Maybe it's OK to be weak or needy for one person. Maybe that's all right. Maybe I don't have to change for the whole world; just for him. Is that OK? I think it has to be. I don't think I can be different for everyone else. I don't think I can let them in or clue them in. But for him, maybe I can. Maybe that's what life is about—one person. Maybe it's about finding that one person. I don't know.
I don't know.
But I know this: I can't be alone anymore. I can't sit in the dark while other people fumble around in the quiet and the murk, trying to find me, trying to locate me, while I huddle in the pantry, hiding, hoping no one finds me, not opening my mouth, not speaking, waiting for Jecca to come along and make me warm and alive for a few minutes at a time.
I need to be out there.
Living.
Looking for my own life. My own kisses.
I need to open my mouth.
I need to be heard.
I need to live. You're gone, Mom.
AcknowledgmentsI'm not.
T
HANKS, AS ALWAYS, TO EVERYONE
at Houghton, especially Lisa DiSarro, Jenn Taber, Betsy Groban, Linda Magram, and Alison Kerr Miller, to say nothing of the poor folks in Design who had to format that one chat transcript ... round of applause, please.
Also to: Robin Brande, who read multiple drafts; Alexandra Heyser, my secret (oops) teen girl connection, connoisseur of dirty tricks; Eric Lyga, who read the early draft; and Margaret Raymo, who believed in Kyra's voice ... and found the perfect cover photo.
Special thanks to Kathy Anderson, who believed in the book from the start and who loves Kyra almost as much as I do. when the website fanboyandgothgirl.com launched, it had blogs from Cal and Fanboy. Kathy insisted that there had to be something from Kyra as well, so I hit on the idea of some letters she could write to Neil Gaiman, a device that I was thrilled to be able to expand and exploit in this book.
Sincere thanks, too, to Officer Stacey Gaegler of the Hamp stead (Medical Doctor) Police Department, who answered my questions about arresting car thieves with patience and good humor. As always, anything I got right is her influence; anything I got wrong is my fault.
I have to offer deep, deep public thanks to Molly Krichten, whose influence on this book is quite impossible to overestimate. You have no idea. She might understand Kyra better than I do.
Last but certainly not least: My thanks to the legions of
Fanboy and Goth Girl
fans who deluged my e-mail inbox with requests for a sequel. This book was never part of the plan. I'm glad the plan changed and I hope you are, too.