Thank you to Katherine Perkins for a keen editorial eye, and the rest of the Penguin team for creating a beautiful, tangible thing from a document that once lived on my computer.

Lisa Barley, I value your friendship, patience, and honesty. Eternal thanks for reading the earliest drafts of this story, indulging me in endless conversations about the plot and characters, and never letting me give up. Much love to Lena Anderson for your loyalty, excitement, and nonstop support. I’m indebted to Stephanie D. Brown, Carrie Burns, and Erika Enk Rueter for reading early versions and providing helpful feedback and encouragement. Leila Howland and Vanessa Napolitano, your quick reads and brilliant notes during revisions were essential to the development of this story. Thanks also to Lesley Arimah and Kelly Kamenetzky for listening and rooting for me, always.

Amy Spalding, thank you for a stupendous amount of support and making me laugh when I need it most. Corey Haydu, Kristen Kittscher, and April G. Tucholke, I am so grateful for your emails and friendship; I’ll never understand how you always know the right thing to say, but I do appreciate it. Alison Cherry, thank you for being so kind and faithfully cheering me on to the finish line.

Los Angeles and Chicago friends, thanks for putting up with my incessant babbling and disappearing acts while I was working on this book—and for being my family away from home. I’m incredibly grateful to Debbie Farr and Sonshine Performing Arts Academy for teaching me how to tap, and fostering a love and respect for all disciplines of dance.

To my big brother, Al: I constantly wanted to do what you were doing when we were kids, so I’m really glad voracious reading has always been your thing.

And to my parents, Jerri and Albert, I can’t thank you enough for raising me in a house filled with good books, buying me all those notebooks and pens, and never forcing me outside when I’d rather be in a quiet room, writing. Some of my favorite memories are Saturday mornings spent at the library and bookstore—and also that time you gave me, at my request, nothing but a giant box of books for Christmas. I was seven years old when I told you I wanted to be an author, and you always said I could do it someday if I tried really hard. Thank you for believing in me.