When the song changes, Bo and I don’t bother getting up off the grass. Instead, we wrap our arms around each other on the ground. Somehow I’m immune to the itchiness, and all I feel is warm. I could fall asleep like this. I guess it’s the safety of it, and that Bo’s whole vibe is so soothing. I open my eyes and see that hers are closed. She’s so goddamn beautiful right now. And all the time, but especially right now. She looks like a friggin’ angel.
She’s sweaty, and her hair is a mess, and the lipstick from our kiss is smeared, and she looks so gorgeous I can’t breathe. Looking at her, I realize I’m not surviving anymore. I’m dancing, and laughing, and living.
I love her. It feels so good to know that with so much confidence. No more second-guessing. No more double life. My cover is blown and it was my choice. I couldn’t be happier.
She opens her eyes and blushes at me staring. I look into those beautiful black holes and wonder why I was ever scared of getting pulled in. I snuggle closer and kiss her nose.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
I’m thinking that I’m not afraid of anything anymore. I’m not afraid of being like Bo. I’m not afraid to let her see me, and I’m not afraid of seeing myself. I’m not afraid to tell her.
“Tú eres mi otro yo.”
Acknowledgments
One of my favorite things to do is read with my mom. Many of the books we read together over the years inspired me to write my own, and the moment I told her I finished writing one, she asked me to read it aloud to her as if it was just another one of the published books we would read all the time.
I almost gave her a heart attack with the first line.
She gasped through every curse word, but never wavered in her support for me and this book. Ever since I wrote my first half-baked story at eight years old, she has been my biggest supporter. She always made sure I believed in myself, that I could make this dream happen, and for that, Mami, I can’t thank you enough. Because of you I never once questioned if I would be able to become a published author, only when. And can you believe it? It’s when!
While this book was such a joy to write, life brought me some of my darkest moments while writing and revising it, and I really need to thank Gabi, Erica, and my parents for always supporting me through those times and helping me see the light at the end of the tunnel. I wouldn’t be here without you all. Thank you.
To my cousin Ally, who helped me come up with a title I’m obsessed with and let me brainstorm about every little revision until I knew exactly how to execute it. To Emery and Jonny for keeping me humble by roasting me 24/7 （Seriously though, thank you, Emery, for all your help from marketing to brainstorming!）。 To Adelle and Ana for always being there. To Alaysia for kicking my butt and actually making me write when I want to be lazy. And to all my beta readers who helped me whip this book into shape.
Huge thank you to my amazing agent, Alexandra Levick, who saw something special in Yami’s story and became her champion. When we had our first phone call and I heard your ideas for revisions, I could feel how much more special this book would become with your help. Thank you so much for your support and for being there when I need a cheerleader. I really can’t express how much it means.
I also want to thank my lovely editor, Alessandra Balzer, who believed in Yami and me enough to make this all possible. Thank you so much for giving me a chance to share her story with the world. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
And to my copyeditors, Laura Harshberger and Valerie Shea, and proofreader, Vivian Lee. To Jessie Gang for designing such a stunning cover and Be Fernández for bringing it to life. To the wonderful team at HarperCollins, and everyone who touched and will touch this book on its journey to finding readers, Caitlin Johnson, Andrea Pappenheimer, Kerry Moynagh, Kathy Faber, Nellie Kurtzman, Shannon Cox, Lauren Levite, Patty Rosati, Mimi Rankin, and Katie Dutton, thank you!
And finally, to all the teenage mes out there. To the queer kids, the Brown kids, the kids who don’t quite fit the mold. Your voice matters. You matter. You’re doing amazing and I love you.