Revived

someday soon, the pull of Omaha won’t feel so unbearably strong, and that I’ll feel like Sophie Weller all the way.

Epilogue

It’s late May; my sophomore year is nearly over. In a few short weeks, Matt will arrive in nearby San Francisco for his summer-long music camp. We’ll see each other at night and on the weekends, and I’m so excited I can barely contain myself. The thought of feeling his lips on mine again gives me chills; the thought of twirling my fingers through his curls is almost enough to make me skip finals and hop a plane to Nebraska.

Surprisingly easily, Matt and I have managed to stay together with seventeen hundred miles between us. We talk on the phone, text, and email every day; on weekends, when we have more time, we Skype. He told his parents that he was devastated when my dad was abruptly transferred to Alameda; they let him visit over spring break for five whole days. Though distance is often the kiss of death for relationships, somehow with Matt and me, it works. Maybe because both of us know what real loss feels like, physical separation isn’t catastrophic.

Even so, Matt’s only applying to colleges in northern California.

In and outside of school, I hang out with Elsie, Ella, and Sarah. Ella and Sarah are always trying to get me to ditch Matt and date a guy in our time zone, but Elsie gets it. Even though they broke up when she left, Elsie’s still heartbroken over her last boyfriend in Portland. Elsie, Ella, Sarah, and I went to junior prom with Sarah’s boyfriend and three of his friends. It was a casual, fun night, but I know that next year, distance be damned, I’m going to my own junior prom on Matt’s arm.

The Revive program’s still on hold, but Mason thinks it will resume in the fall; apparently the director wants to keep it going. I’m a little surprised to be dreading Mason’s return to “agent.” I’ve loved having him close all these months. And it’s been just us; when the program starts again, Mason will undoubtedly get a new partner, too.

I’m trying not to think about that part yet.

For now, I’m settled into life in Alameda like I was in Omaha… almost. School and friends and love life on track, there remains a black spot in my heart where a piece of me has gone missing, left in a bedroom with a chalkboard wall; in a sunshiny yellow car; in a locker at Victory; in a beautiful, sparkling laugh.

There’s never a day I don’t think of Audrey.

There’s never a day I don’t miss her.

But missing her isn’t the same thing as being stuck, like I was in the beginning. I know I’ll never be completely whole without her. But I’ve found a way to be happy as this new version of myself, the version with a missing piece but also a better understanding of the value of friendship.

Of the value of life.

Audrey taught me that.

So instead of crying when I think of her, I talk to her. I make her playlists. I cover my wall with chalkboard paint and write a list of the things that were great about her. I “like” Jake Gyllenhaal on Facebook.

But I embrace my new friends and my new life, too.

Because what I know from the precious time we spent together and from the words in the worn letter I keep close at all times is this: Audrey never wanted to be anyone’s heartbreak.

So I’ll always remember….

But also, I’ll move on.

Acknowledgments

I’m much better when I’m busy.

That’s why, in the midst of editing my first novel, Forgotten, I started a second. I wrote half, then started a third. Unsure which to finish, I sought advice from my publishing Sherpa, Dan Lazar at Writers House. He told me to go with my gut. I did, and if you enjoyed Revived, you have Dan to thank almost as much as I do (which is a lot… the guy is the best agent ever). While I’m at it, I’ll also thank the rest of my Writers House network: Stephen Barr, Cecilia de la Campa, Angharad Kowal, Chelsey Heller, and foreign rights agents around the world.

Revived took about a year to write and rewrite and rewrite again. During that time, I leaned on numerous other people to help me get through what I’ve come to know as Second Book Syndrome. These people helped bring Revived to life:

My amazingly wonderful editor at Little, Brown, Elizabeth Bewley. Thank you for your time, patience, and support. Without you, Daisy might be lost in New York and Cassie might still be an Indian man. Also without you, I might never have seen the funniest Internet video ever.

Ali Dougal at Egmont UK, Karri Hedge at Hardie Grant Egmont, and the other editors worldwide who’ve so enthusiastically helped deliver Revived to readers: Thank you.

Nancy Conescu, who bet on Revived even before a word was written.

Publicists Jessica Bromberg at Little, Brown; Vicki Berwick at Egmont; and Jen Kean at Hardie Grant Egmont, who just, quite frankly, rock.

Hubby. Thank you for Saturdays with the girls, and for opening the good bottle of wine for every win. For doing less of your hobby so I could do more of mine. For (holy wow by the time this comes out) ten years.

My monkeys. L, thank you for offering to help me draw—instead of write—the line I’m stuck on. C, thank you for suggesting that my next novel should be about “(Uncle) Ryan, a lion, and Barbie.” You two are my everything. Just… everything. I love you.

Mom and Dad, thank you for loving me even through my teen years. Thank you for your unwavering support.

My sister, brothers, sister-in-law, brother-in-law, and nephews. Grandpa and my Cheyenne brood, Teams L.A. and CT. I love you all.

Those who previewed Revived and helped me shape Daisy’s world. Amy, my dear friend, thank you for being there for me always, and for reading despite Baby E’s best efforts. Kristin, my speed- reading Cacee, what would I do without you? Judith, you have both photography and toddler-whispering superpowers. David, I remembered: no bees or pink blouses. Brad and Kim, thank you for being my Omaha experts.

Christopher, my sunshine. Thank you for being the “he” in my he said/she said—not just in the book, but in real life, too. And Arne, just because.

Janine, the smartest person I know. Thanks for explaining what a PCR machine does, and for not laughing out loud when I told you the “science” behind Revive.

Author buddies Jay Asher and Daisy Whitney, thank you for giving up some of your valuable time to offer me advice. My ridiculously supportive network of friends all over the map: Thank you for enjoying the ride with me so far.

And finally:

Sarah, a family friend who inspired the very saddest parts of Audrey’s story. I hadn’t seen you in many years, and yet, I will always remember your spirit… and your smile.

Copyright © 2012 by Cat Patrick

All rights reserved.