Now that the members of The Ruperts were dead/behind bars/a solo artist, Isabel couldn’t exactly continue to run her Ruperts update site. But with all the traffic she’d garnered from her night at The Rondack she had a strong enough following to launch a full-blown celeb gossip site big enough to rival the major outlets. I wonder if she’ll link to this story.
I still see Erin at school, and we still talk, but it isn’t how it used to be. I don’t think it ever will be again. I never told her what happened when I went back to our hotel room and found Michelle Hornsbury there. She’d already made her conclusions about me, and I don’t even know if she’d trust that what I’m telling you right now is the truth.
But that’s just it, isn’t it?
I could be making all this up. I could have spun this whole story so that it worked out in my favor. I could’ve assigned random roles and made Erin the Mastermind, Isabel the Enforcer, and Apple the Simple One just so that I could be the Innocent One. I know that if Erin, Apple, and Isabel were telling it, they’d probably (definitely) make me out to be the Crazy One. But if I were making all of this up, I would probably just make Isabel out to be the murderer or something, don’t you think?
I’ve told you about everyone else, and if you’ve read this far I’m assuming you’re interested to know about what happened with me. As per usual, my life isn’t terribly exciting at the moment. I haven’t written fanfiction since everything that happened with The Ruperts. Maybe one day I’ll find some other fandom that’ll inspire me to write about it, but until then I think I’ll try my hand at real fiction. If that’s the only thing that came out of writing this whole story down, then that’s good enough.
But I’ve been thinking a lot about the future too. And if I’m being honest, I’ve been thinking about what Civil War Bartender said. I imagine myself going to my first college party. I imagine talking to a group of hip, counterculture coeds and the topic of The Ruperts getting brought up. Somebody’ll say, “Hey, you guys remember The Ruperts? How lame were they?”
I imagine what I’ll say.
I wonder if I’ll lie.
Thank you:
To Jenny Bent, my rock star agent, who does so much more than I thought an agent could do. You are so, so good and I am truly lucky and amazed to have you in my corner. To Gemma Cooper, who got this book straightaway and made things go smoothly over the pond. Eskimo! And to Victoria Lowes for putting up with all my emails.
To my editor, Matt Ringler, who may be the coolest person I know and not only because he is king of the raccoons. Thank you for making everything about this experience so choice. #blessed #squad. I also have to thank Aimee Friedman and David Levithan, who, along with Matt, not only rallied behind this book but turned their lives into what I imagine to be a particularly zany episode of Three’s Company in order to acquire it. I am forever grateful. And thank you to all the amazing people I’ve met at Scholastic, which I can confirm is a magical wonderland of a place.
To my awesome UK editor, Rachel Petty, and everyone at Macmillan UK for their support.
To those who read early drafts and chapters: Esther Silberstein, Diana Gallagher, Richard Ho. Heroes, all of you. And to Chaya Levinsohn, my first reader, always. I remember the exact moment we were walking through a bookstore and I asked you if you thought I’d ever have a book in there and you said, with so much conviction, yes. That was when I knew I could do it. Thank you.
To those who provided some excellent jokes: Steven Bluth and Jo Schwarcz. To Lawrence Lee of the Canadian Lees. My first partner in parody crime. (:-*) To Ruthie, Shira, and Sarah (you’re welcome!).
To Akiva Moldavsky Z”L and Sonia Moldavsky. Mom, you gave me everything and now everything I have is for you. I love you. To Ari, Maayan, Tily, and to Yasmin Freedman, the original stan. Your fangirling ways are the stuff of legend, and way better than any fiction I could come up with. This book was an attempt to capture everything I loved growing up. And everything I loved growing up is inextricably entwined with you. I hope we never stop talking in movie quotes and singing our favorite telenovela theme songs.
To Berko Schnaiderman Z”L and Blanca Schnaiderman. To Felix and Valer. Tios Jorge, Ira, Samuel Z”L, and Vladimir. Tias Bella Z”L, Estella Z”L, Malka, Lidia. And to Raquel Fodor and Rebeca Schnaiderman, con todo mi cari?o.
To Silvia, David, Rodrigo, Jordana, Kevin, and Berko.
And to Alex, who was very literally by my side throughout the making of this book. At the Tea Lounge when I wrote the very first line, in Herald Square when we figured out what the start looked like, on the road back from CT trying to pin down who Erin was, at Chagall’s when we had the very important plot breakthrough, at Basil when we finally knew whodunit, and flying over the Pacific, doing the very last revisions. Thank you for being there. (And for telling me that I am an amazing story.)