Just One Day

I try to sit up. The world turns to soup.

The doctor pushes me back onto the bed, a hand on my shoulder. “You are agitated because you are confused. This is all temporary, but we will need to take the CT scan to rule out a hematoma. While we wait, we can attend to your facial lacerations. First I will give you something to make the area numb.”

The nurse swabs off my cheek with something orange. “Do not worry. This won’t stain.”

It doesn’t stain; it just stings.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book begins with Shakespeare, and so my thank-yous begin with Tamara Glenny, who, when I told her I was writing something with some Shakespeare in it, promptly wrote me up notes on plays to look at, got us tickets to a number of those plays—including that fateful production of As You Like It— and answered dozens of ridiculously obscure questions with her usual enthusiasm and good humor.

The book then moves on to France, and I would like to thank Celine Faure and Philippe Robinet, for helping me discover Allyson and Willem’s Paris, and for not blinking when I asked for such translations as: “shut your piehole.” Laurence Checler graciously helped with so many more of the translations in the book. Marie-Elisa Gramain helped me find the perfect French band name. Also thank you to Taly Meas for the hospital tour, Willy Levitanus, Patricia Roth, and Julie Roth for orchestrating it all.

We move on to Holland then, and to Heleen Buth and Emke Spauwen who gave me such a fantastic tour of Utrecht and provided me with so many details that sparked so much of Allyson’s and Willem’s stories. My brother- in-law, Robert Schamhart, helped me with many of the Dutch subtleties, and allowed me to steal a few key aspects of his identity, down to his nickname. Hartelijk bedankt!

Back stateside, my inimitable editor, Julie Strauss-Gabel, once again, helped me figure out the book I meant to write and remained a steady, optimistic force whenever I became discouraged that I’d ever actually write it. “I’m not worried about you,” she frequently says, such reassuring words, when I’m in a tizzy. Thank you for not worrying—and for worrying. Thank you also to the other extraordinary member of Team Dutton: Liza Kaplan, as well as to Scottie Bowditch, Danielle Delaney, Deborah Kaplan, Rosanne Lauer, Elyse Marshall, Emily Romero, Don Weisberg; and the entire staff of Penguin Young Readers Group: the amazing sales and marketing team, the wonderful school and library department, the ever-brilliant online department, and all the fantastic field reps—who give so much heart to the authors they publish.

Sarah Burnes is my agent, my advocate, my reality check, my Mama Bear, and above all, my wise and generous friend. I feel thankful to have someone who understands all the sides of me—and by extension, my characters and books—in my corner. The powerhouse team of Logan Garrison, Rebecca Gardner, and Will Roberts have propelled my books to places I never dreamed of. You couldn’t imagine a nicer, smarter group of bulldogs!

I would like to thank Isabel Kyriacou for, among many other things, helping me curse more proficiently in Spanish. I would like to thank my YA cohorts, particularly Libba Bray and Stephanie Perkins, who provided the writerly equivalent of therapy: lots of listening, combined with the occasional, laser-beam insightful question or comment. (I believe they accept most insurance.) Thank you also to Nina LaCour, E. Lockhart, Sandy London, Margaret Stohl, Robin Wasserman, and whoever else might’ve listened to me jabber about complicated plot threads. Thank you Onome Edodi-Disowe, Victoria Hill, and all the ladies of the BK/BNS crews, for taking hold of the reins so that I might let them go. Thank you to Veronica Brodsky, for helping me understand what this book is truly about. And to Rebecca Haworth for taking that first trip with me. We had our Melanie moments—and came out the other side. Thank you, Marjorie Ingall, for reading, hand-holding, and geeking out with me about Shakespeare.

Speaking of, I know he is long dead and there’s no collecting royalty or praise from the grave, but I must thank Shakespeare anyway, for giving me the surprise of this book, and for providing me a play that keeps working on so many levels. Thank you Royal Shakespeare Company, for bringing As You Like It to New York City just as I was starting this book. Thank you Fiasco Theater Company for turning me onto Cymbeline—and for all your help with this book, and the next.

Thank you to my parents, for passing on their love of travel, for being proud when, the week after high- school graduation, I took off on a one-way ticket to Europe to attend “The University of Life,” and for teaching me to be self-sufficient enough to travel on my own, and on my own dime, for the next several years. Thank you to my siblings, Tamar and Greg, for being such cheerleaders and supporters of their little sister and for, each in their own way, showing me how to say yes. Thank you to Karen and Detta, Rebecca, Hannah, Liam, Lucy, and all of my extended brood.

Thank you to all the people I’ve met in my travels over the years—some of whom I kept in touch with, some of whom I put into this book, and some of whom have changed the trajectory of my life. Without you, I would not be here now, writing these words.

Thank you to my readers, for packing their mental suitcases and coming off on another trip with me. Without you, I would not be here now, writing these words.

Finally, thank you to Nick, Willa, and Denbele: You are the ones I travel with now. And how wild and wonderful the journey is.

Click here for more books by this author

ALSO BY GAYLE FORMAN

If I Stay

Sisters in Sanity

Where She Went