It feels like home
Flying down this open road I remove the safety belt wrapped around my seat If we go crashing
Let the blow break me
BONNIE AND CLYDE
I grew up looking down
Held my hands against my ears, silencing siren sounds I flew out the screaming back door every time Hugged my shoulders until I found your street Said I was just walking by
You knew to hold me till I cried
We threw hope to the fire, now I’m floating past Mars I should know better, I don’t see no harm
Letting the ashes of our maybes keep me warm Floating through Saturn remembering you tangled in my bed A time before we said words better left unsaid I float through Jupiter, I still want the moon I should know better
Darling, it’ll always be you
I left the sirens behind
Ran pass your street without stopping for our goodbye Didn’t slow down until my skin was bathed in bright hues Sandy shores at my feet, feeling golden and blue I didn’t miss running
I missed having someone to run to
We threw hope to the fire, now I’m floating past Mars I should know better, I don’t see no harm
Letting the ashes of our maybes keep me warm Floating through Saturn remembering you tangled in my bed A time before we said words better left unsaid I float through Jupiter, I still want the moon I should know better
Darling, it’ll always be you
Two kids counting stars at night
Your partner in crime, Bonnie and Clyde
Two kids who lassoed the moon
I sure liked loving you
We threw hope to the fire, now I’m floating past Mars I should know better, I don’t see no harm
Letting the ashes of our maybes keep me warm Floating through Saturn remembering you tangled in my bed A time before we said words better left unsaid I float through Jupiter, I still want the moon I should know better
Darling, it’ll always be you
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THIS BOOK WAS NOT BORN overnight. Getting here involved tears, an Excel spreadsheet of three time lines, two different endings, tens of thousands of words thrown away and rewritten, epic playlists, and nights that bled into mornings. This novel is so much better for all of the work put into it. And I couldn’t have done it alone.
To my children, Max and Zoey. Your excitement for life is what makes mine worth living. One day, I’ll write a book that you can read. For now, this right here is just about the only page that is safe.
To my parents. Thank you for allowing me, at a young age, to discover what sets my soul on fire. And thank you for never telling me that my dreams couldn’t come true.
There were great writing days, and there were writing days when I googled, “How to write a book.” Barry, you made all the days better. Thank you for your unwavering love and support, and for letting me listen to Taylor Swift whenever I want （which is always）。
To my incredible book agents, Cait Hoyt and Alex Rice. Thank you for championing this story and for truly believing in me as an author. You are both rock stars and dream agents.
To my brilliant editor, Alexandra Sehulster. Thank you for sticking by me when I asked if I could throw away forty pages of an entirely different novel and start this book from scratch. We sure put Maggie Vine through it, didn’t we? Thank you for pushing me to go further with her journey. I’m beyond grateful for your patience and your wonderful mind.
To everyone at St. Martin’s Griffin and Macmillan who have worked tirelessly to help bring Maybe Once, Maybe Twice to life, from the thoughtful social media gurus to the copyediting heroes （who discovered some of my adorable misuses of words）。 Thank you especially to Alyssa Gammello, Cassidy Graham, Gabriel Guma, Kerri Resnick, Marissa Sangiacomo, NaNá V. Stoelzle, and Susannah Noel.
To the rest of my dream team—Ashley Silver, Austin Denesuk, Berni Barta, Darian Lanzetta, and Olivia Blaustein—thank you for believing in me and always fighting for me to succeed.
To my team at TMG for keeping me out of jail: Daniel Farr, Tracy Porter, and Mallory Zahrt.
To MOMT’s earliest readers, the dear friends who I trusted with this story at its various stages: Allie Greenberg, Azita Ghanizada, Jonny Umansky, Julia Duffy, Randi Blick, and Sarah Prinze. Your encouragement meant the world to me during the writing process.
To Freddy Wexler for planting the seeds of this idea into my brain. You are such a talent.
Years ago, my friend sat me down and told me it was “tragic” that I had stopped writing. This truth woke something inside of me, and I haven’t stopped writing since. We need the right kind of cheerleaders in our life—those who will push us to be the most authentic version of ourselves. I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by the most wonderful friends and family. You all know who you are, and you know what you mean to me. And to Eugene Kim—from the bottom of my heart, thank you for calling me tragic that one time.
To the woman still reaching for her dreams despite all the obstacles in her way, this book is for you.