Jordan tugged on a lock of Wendy’s hair as she pulled back. “You’re getting awfully shaggy, girl,” she said as she stood up.
Wendy smoothed her hands through her hair. “Yeah, I’m thinking about growing it out,” she said with a shrug. It was already starting to brush her shoulders.
Jordan nodded. “New look—I love it!” she sang with enthusiasm. Wendy laughed and Jordan beamed. “I’ll stop by after class!” she called with a wave as she headed back toward the brick buildings. “I need to show you how to make ramen in your coffee maker!”
“That’s gross!” Wendy scolded.
“It’s delicious!”
Wendy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help chuckling. When Jordan disappeared from sight, Wendy flopped onto her back. She reached her hands above her head and tangled her fingers in the grass. This was her favorite spot on campus, where rosebushes lined the lawn.
Back home, she and her mom had picked out and planted two rosebushes in the backyard as a sort of memorial to John and Michael. John’s were white and Michael’s were bright yellow. Mrs. Darling spent a lot of time talking to the roses while pruning their leaves. Last time she was home, Wendy had even caught her dad doing it a couple of times when he thought no one was watching.
She watched the roses sway gently in the breeze and thought about Peter. She did that often. When things were quiet, her mind always seemed to drift to him. She’d had a handful of dreams about him, but when she woke up, she was only left with fleeting glimpses of starry eyes and a toothy smile. Many times she’d wished she had a picture of him, or something more substantial than her drawings to remember him by, other than the acorn that she still wore around her neck every day.
Wendy sighed. It nestled into the center of her chest reassuringly. The longing ache came back as it always did when she thought of him. Wendy closed her eyes and did her best to conjure up an image of him grinning. She thought about the small chip in his front tooth and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. Wendy smiled as a breeze picked up, causing the grass to dance against her skin. The wind brushed against her cheeks, smelling sweet as honeysuckle. Under the rustling of leaves, Wendy could’ve sworn she heard the soft chirping of crickets.
Wendy’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her eyes.
Acknowledgments
Lost in the Never Woods has been seven years in the making, during which I’ve grown, regressed, and changed. Throughout those years, many people helped this story grow, and, in kind, helped me grow. I owe thanks to so many of you.
Shelby Gagnon: You and your family took me in during one of the darkest times of my life. You introduced me to Astoria one weekend in spring, and I’ve been in love with those woods ever since. Without you, this story wouldn’t exist.
To Kathryn Reiss, for being my guide throughout undergraduate and grad school at Mills. I decided to pursue writing when I was a high school junior and sat in on your Young Adult writing course. Without you, I wouldn’t be the writer I am today.
To Marisa Handler, whose mentoring made Wendy’s story come to life in beautiful and poignant ways. You were a grounding force when everything seemed impossible to reach.
To Ellen McAmis and Mackenzie Bronaugh, who staged a ridiculous intervention when they saw me struggling, but mostly for your unwavering love and loyalty. Thanks for all the belly laughs and tight hugs.
To Adwoa Gyimah-Brempong: Without you, I would never have survived grad school. You are amazing.
To Elizabeth Stelle and Tanya Lisle, my amazing writing partners. Thank you for encouraging me to continue writing and being with me through every twist and turn of getting this book published. You two are the real heroes.
To all my writing buddies at H.O.W.—Genny, Maggie, Manasi, Mary—some of the most talented writers I know, who created a community where I could improve my writing, explore distant places, and experience magic.
Super special thanks to Alison Morrison, one of my biggest supporters who freaked out with me when I got the official email during a very serious meeting. You have talked me down from several ledges, and I’m sure there are plenty more to come. Thank you for being the best Mom-ager I could ask for.
To Holly West, my phenomenal editor who helped take my story and spin it into gold. I still can’t believe I found someone to work with who understands my stories and characters so fully—sometimes even better than I do. Working with you has been one of the best things to ever happen to me and my writing.
To Emily Settle, one of the best cheerleaders who happily shares in my freaking out when I message her with random thoughts and ideas. I hear you’re the one who first found Lost in the Never Woods and shared it with the rest of the team, and for that I am forever grateful.