Autumn's Wish
Autumn's Wish
Autumn's Wish
SNEAK PEEK
autumns wish
an autumn falls novel
BELLA
THORNE
with elise allen
DELACORTE PRESS
#AutumnsWish
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright 2016 by Bella Thorne
Jacket photograph 2016 Howard Huang
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press,
an imprint of Random House Childrens Books, a division of
Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a
trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
randomhouseteens.com
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools,
visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN978-0-385-74437-9(hc) ISBN978-0-385-38525-1(ebook)
The text of this book is set in 12-point Chaparral.
Interior design by Heather Kelly
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
Random House Childrens Books supports the First Amendment
and celebrates the right to read.
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ATTENTION, READER:
THIS IS AN UNCORRECTED ADVANCE EXCERPT
3/28/16 12:50 PM
1
september, senior year
Some students have a background or story that is so central
to their identity that they believe their application would be
incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share
your story.
I stare at the words from the Common App prompt until
they dance in front of my eyes. That doesnt take long. Im
dyslexic. If I dont focus, the dancy-swimmy thing happens pretty much right away. Especially if Im looking at
something that makes me want to hurl as much as a college essay prompt.
But, hey, I shouldnt freak out. Its only my future, right?
Sigh.
Fine.
When I was fifteen years old, my father died.
I know this doesnt make me special. Lots of kids
fathers die, and its probably just as beyond-words
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and managed to bend my elbows a couple of very impressive centimeters before searing pain ripped through my biceps and I let go of the bar so fast I tumbled onto my butt.
I shook it off and figured no one would ever know, but of
course my film-obsessed brother had installed a motionactivated bar-cam to record his workouts, so now my athletic feat is immortalized on his YouTube channel.
Have you seen Mom? I ask.
Shes at work, he grunts as he dramatically squeezes
out one final pull-up, then leaps nimbly to the ground.
She called and said were on our own for dinner. I vote
protein. Need to feed the furnace.
He flexes his biceps and kisses them, one at a time.
Ew, I say. Put those away.
Wanna see me make my pecs dance?
Wanna see me lose my lunch?
He makes his pecs dance anyway. I dont actually lose
my lunch, but I do leave the room immediately. Its infinitely weird and disturbing to me that Erick is considered
a hot boy at school, a fact I know from the pool party we
had at the end of summer. A bunch of kids from his class
came over, and all the girls were oohing and aahing over
how much hed changed over the summer. I have to admit
its true. Hes as tall as our mom now, so just a little shorter
than me, plus his braces are gone, and while Id never tell
him this, you can totally see all the work he puts in on his
muscles.
Still, its weird. Ericks not supposed to be studly. Hes
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Be there in 5.
I know its a very weird thing for me to say to someone
in Maryland when Im in Florida, unless I mean five hours
or five days. Which I dont. See, my dad left me this gift
after he died. A couple of gifts, actually. The first one was a
diary that made wishes come true. I know, it sounds crazy,
but it happened and it was real and it worked. . . until all
of a sudden it didnt work anymore. I thought that was the
end of it, but then I found another gifta dry-erase map
of nowhere that existed in the world. When I write on the
map, it takes me to that place. Like, I could write Australia, and bam, Id be hugging a koala. An angry koala, with
my luck, and Id end up getting my face scratched off. But
if I use it carefully and really think about what Im writing,
it usually gets me exactly where I want to go.
Dad had left me both the map and the diary as part
of my missionto bring peace and harmony to my little
corner of the world. I kind of made a mess of that last
year, but I cleaned it all up by New Years. And even though
Im all kinds of messed up in my own head about J.J. not
being my friend anymore, and Mom and Erick changing,
and everyone leaving for college in less than a year, thats
all my own stuff. For my friends and family, things have
been pretty peaceful and harmonious, so I havent used
the map except to see Jenna on a regular basis, because
yeah, a magic portal to your best friend in the universe?
Kinda the most amazing thing ever.
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the map! Thats how I found the map in the first placeit
appeared in a hidden spot in the diary.
I shake the map by my ear and listen for anything rattling inside.
Anything? Jenna asks.
A breeze, I say, fanning my hair out of my face. A
really nice breeze.
But nothing inside? Jenna prods.
I dont think so, I say, but maybe its somewhere else.
Maybe its in my room. Maybe its in another part of the
house? Oh God, what if its in Ericks room? I cant take any
more body spray mixed with hormones mixed with sweat.
Trying to ignore those words so I dont torture myself
and imagine the smell, Jenna says. But looking for it isnt
the answer.
Its not?
No, she says. You have to go see Eddy. She gave you
the diary; she clued you in on how to find the map. Shell
know what to do now.
Jennas right. If anyone will know what the spirit of my
father wants next, its my grandmother, Eddy.
Time to take a trip to Century Acres.
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september, senior year
Eddy, my fathers mother, is the main reason we moved to
Aventura in the first place. She lived alone down here for
years, but when she had a stroke and couldnt take care of
herself, Dad moved her into Century Acres, an assistedliving home. The idea was the whole family would come
down and help her, but. . . well. . . things changed. At the
time I thought there was no way wed move without Dad,
and when we did I kind of resented Eddy for it. Like it was
her fault Mom was ripping me away from everything I
loved.
I dont feel that way anymore. Eddys a little crazy and
a lot embarrassing, but I love her. And I owe her a visit
anyway, since I havent seen her all summer. Jenna and
I spent the summer as counselors at the sleepaway camp
weve gone to since we were kids. We used to say wed do
that every summer until we were eighty, but Jenna already
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idol, weirdly now-kinda-sorta-sometimes friend, and ohmy- God-I-for-real-kissedhim bae Kyler Leeds could be inside.
The second I open the door, a whoosh of arctic-level airconditioning freezes me solid, and my ears are assaulted
by overly amplified classical piano music: the pre-dinner
entertainment for the residents. I can see the pianist. He
doesnt look much older than me, and Im sure this is his
good deed for the day, but hes not enjoying it. His forehead is a mess of sweat and he keeps glancing nervously at
two little old women who wont stop heckling him. Their
matching plush chairs are pivoted toward the pianist, so I
can only see them from the side.
Boo! cries a tiny white-haired woman in a purple
terry cloth tracksuit.
Youre no musician! adds an equally tiny woman with
thinning jet-black hair. Play something good!
We want another song! calls the first woman, and she
climbs onto her seat and punches a fist in the air as she
makes it a chant. We want a-no-ther song! We want a-nother song!
I sigh. This is my grandmother Eddy and her best
friend, Zelda Rubenstein. I dart over to them and mouth
Im sorry to the piano player as I grab their attention.
Hi, guys!
Autumn! they cry in unison, and immediately forget
about the piano player. Eddy throws her arms around my
neck for a hug. Its a little strange because even standing
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on the chair, shes barely taller than me, and shes so light
I feel like Im hugging a child who I should pick up and set
safely down on the floor.
Oh, I missed you this summer, querida! she coos,
cupping my face in her hands. Theyre strong against my
cheeks, and I remember she made her living as a potter for
years when she raised my dad in Cuba.
Hey! calls Zelda. Bring that punim down here too. I
want in.
I have no idea which part of me is my punim, so I just
bend down and lean toward her. She also grabs my face,
but her hands feel like thin papery gloves. She pulls me
close for a kiss that lands uncomfortably close to my lips,
and I can feel the big red splotch left by her lipstick.
Dont manhandle her, Zelda, Eddy says as Zelda wipes
the mark off my face. Shes my nieta.
Well shell be mine, too, once she marries my Kyler,
Zelda counters.
S, s, Eddy admits, but I still say we have the reception down here. I dont trust the people in New York. They
put things in the water.
Youre meshuggeneh, Zelda says, waving her off. Then
she turns to me. And dont you pay attention to what you
read on the Internet. Those supermodels are just a phase
for Kyler. Youre the one hell come back to in the end.
Ai, mi carina, Eddy sighs as she sits dreamily back in
her seat. Youll be such a beautiful bride.
Who says Im marrying Kyler Leeds?! I balk, even
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Mace em, Eddy says. Kyler got her a can for her birthday. Shes just waiting for a chance to use it.
I shake my head and dont say anything else until were
inside Eddys room with the door closed. I help her settle
into her favorite chair; then I perch on the side of her bed.
Is it the zemi? Eddy asks.
I nod and pull the map from my purse. It was on the
back of this, but its gone. I figure theres another one on
something, like last time, but I dont know where to findit.
Eddy nods and takes the map in her hands. She rubs
her fingers over the front of it, like a blind woman reading
braille. Then she turns it over and does the same.
Its not like on the diary, I say. It was just printed on.
You wouldnt feel it.
Maybe, maybe not, Eddy says, but she stops feeling
the map and instead holds it up to her eyes. She moves it
closer, then farther away. She leans over and turns on her
night-table lamp, then pushes the map right next to the
bulb. Ah, she says, smiling. Reinaldo. Hes still here.
Every hair on my body jumps to attention. Reinaldo is
my dad. And even though I know she doesnt mean hes actually here, just the idea of it makes me ache so much I can
barely sit still. Hes not, though, I say. The zemis gone.
Almost gone, Eddy clarifies. She motions me over to
the lamp. Look closely, querida. In the right light, you can
just barely see it.
I get up and lean over the lamp. This close, the lights so
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his phone that got lost in the accident. I eagerly press the
latch and the locket snaps open.
Only its not a locket. Whats inside is an array of
steampunkish open cogs that whirr and click and spin. On
top of the cogs are four windows, one at the top and bottom ofthe locket and one on each side. The top window
shows the number 10 in a blocky old-style font, the left
window says December, the right 19, and the bottom
window. . .
I stop breathing and I nearly drop the medallion.
Dios mio, Eddy says softly. She crosses herself, and I
know she sees it too.
The windows show a date. The exact date my father died.
Why would he give this to me? I ask, my voice shaking. I dont want it.
Eddy pretends to spit on the ground. No. You dont say
that about a gift from the spirit world. If your father wants
you to have this, theres a good reason.
Thats what she says, but she starts pacing around the
room, muttering prayers in Spanish.
Still, shes right. My dad loves me. No part of his spirit
would come back to torture me with the day he died. There
has to be another reason he gave me this thing. He has to
believe itll help me bring peace and harmony to my little
corner of the world.
I peer more closely at the whirring gears and windows
and realize that there are tiny metal wheels next to the
left, right, and bottom windowsthe ones controlling the
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#AutumnFalls
#AutumnsKiss
#AutumnsWish
O R D E R YO U R CO PY O F
BY