Page 86 of Until Next Summer

“What? No way!” I gasp and snatch the notebook out of his hand; he lunges to grab it back, but I run off across the lawn, triumphant.

I’ve been low-key dying to find out what happens next—I finished the second book in his series last night, and it ended on a cliff-hanger. Literally: the main character, Zolara, is hanging on with one hand to the edge of a seventy-story building as Prin, one of her love interests, reaches for her—only for Zolara’s hand to slip and send her plummeting into blackness.

“Give that back,” Luke grumbles, coming after me.

I dart away, grinning as I read.

I never felt like I belonged anywhere until I came to camp.

I stop and look up, confused. “Wait—what’s this for?”

“My next book.” He looks defensive, or maybe just uncomfortable, folding his arms and staring at the ground. “It’s about a teenage boy coming to summer camp for the first time.”

“The third book has kids going tocamp? That makes zero sense.”

“No, I’m not finishing the series—”

“What? Why?”

“Because no one will read it—”

“I will!”

“Well, no one else.”

“Then tell me what was going to happen,” I say, pleading. “Please! I have to know if Zolara makes it.”

He glances at me, his expression pensive. “I have no idea what happens. I wasn’t in a good place when I wrote that—throwing my character off a cliff seemed like an apt metaphor.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He waves a hand. “No, I know. That ending made writing the third book impossible. But being here gave me an idea for a new story. When I went to New York, I pitched it to my editor.”

“And?”

His cheeks flush; a tiny smile. “She loved it.”

I jump and scream. “She did? Amazing! Luke! What’s it about—other than a kid who goes to camp?”

He runs a hand over his mouth, like he’s trying to wipe away the smile, but he’s flushing even more, and I’m delighted. I’ve never seen this bashful version of Luke before.

“The kid who goes to camp has cystic fibrosis. That’s a genetic lung disease—it’s what my uncle died from. I didn’t know him well growing up, but taking Scout made me feel, I don’t know, connected to him? I’ve been thinking about what it would’ve been like to grow up knowing you wouldn’t survive past forty.”

The sadness in his eyes makes my heart squeeze. “What happens in the book?”

We head back to the picnic table where Scout is sleeping. “The camp is for teens with chronic diseases. He loves it there, he’s making friends. There’s a girl…”

I grin. “Is it a romance?”

“Not exactly. After a couple weeks he notices that he’s getting better. At first he thinks it’s just the fresh air, but pretty soon, he doesn’t need his treatments at all. Other kids are improving, too—”

“Ooooh,” I breathe. “Like a healing lake or something?”

His lips quirk. “No spoilers. But when kids start disappearing, he realizes something more sinister is going on at Camp Shadows.”

“It sounds amazing,” I say sincerely. “I’m so excited about it that I won’t even bug you to write me another poem.”

He chuckles softly. “I’ll make up a new one. Let me think.”

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