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For All Time - Hardcover

Miles, Shanna

 
9781534485976: For All Time
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 153448597X ISBN 13: 9781534485976
Verlag: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, 2021

Inhaltsangabe

A Parade Magazine Best Young Adult Book of 2021

“A romance for the ages…one perfect little novel.” —Stacey Lee, award-winning author of The Downstairs Girl

The Sun Is Also a Star meets Outlander in this “unforgettable and artfully crafted romance” (Julie Murphy, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Dumplin’) about two teens who relive their tragic love story over and over until they uncover what they must do to change their fate.

Tamar is a musician, a warrior, a survivor. Fayard? He’s a pioneer, a hustler, a hopeless romantic.

Together, Tamar and Fayard have lived a thousand lives, seen the world build itself up from nothing only to tear itself down again in civil war. They’ve even watched humanity take to the stars. But in each life one thing remains the same: their love and their fight to be together. One love story after another. Their only concern is they never get to see how their story ends. Until now.

When they finally discover what it will take to break the cycle, will they be able to make the sacrifice?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Shanna Miles attended the University of South Carolina where she earned a bachelor’s degree in journalism. With a passion for reading, she continued on to Georgia State University where she earned a master’s degree in library media. Born and raised in Columbia, South Carolina, she considers herself a dyed-in-the-wool Southern girl. As such, she moved to Atlanta, Georgia, where she met and married her husband, a fellow educator. When she’s not writing about Southern girls in love, in trouble, or in space, she’s sharing books with teens as a high school librarian or reading stories to her two young daughters. To find out more about Shanna, you can connect with her online at ShannaMiles.com or on X, TikTok, or Instagram at @SRMilesAuthor.  

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1: Tamar 1 Columbia, South Carolina, Present Day TAMAR
YOU KNOW WHY FAIRY TALES suck? Not because they create unrealistic relationship ideals for girls, even though they do; it’s because Cinderella and those other hags just sat around and waited for something to happen. They waited and talked to birds and wished and hoped, and eventually some handsome kidnapper appeared out of the blue sky and set their life in motion. In real life you have to actually do something. You have to get off your butt and send Prince Charming a text if you want a chance at happily ever after.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall. I wish I didn’t look like shit before the ball.”

Fay pulls my hand away from the passenger-ceiling mirror and kisses the back of it. My palm presses against his palm, and my fingers fold into the soft warmth of his grip. He doesn’t disagree with me, and for that I’m grateful. That whole back-and-forth about how beautiful I am when I know I look like day-old gas-station chicken Alfredo is tiring.

I close the mirror, my fingers brushing against Fay’s rosary beads, a gift from his dead father that he loves more than clear skin on picture day. He never goes anywhere without them, despite the fact that he doesn’t like to talk about his dad, ever. I’ve always assumed it’s just too painful. They’re hanging from the rearview mirror and swish with every turn the car makes. I settle back into my seat and watch as the ribboned citrine sky filters through the windshield, glimmering and aggressive. It’s the kind of light that outlines moments so they can’t be lost to time. Six thirty p.m. As perfect a moment as it gets these days.

Fay makes a sharp turn, and a freshly graded report slides across the dash. I pick it up and read the cover: REINCARNATION ACROSS ANCIENT CULTURES BY FAYARD DANIELS, WORLD CIVILIZATION. I flip through, scanning the essay, and I have to give it to him—it’s pretty good, and with more than double the pages he needed to turn in. He got an A. Mr. Sato even tucked in a brochure for the Museum of Natural History in DC, glossy and inviting with a little sankofa bird superimposed over the building for some new excavation exhibit. The seniors class is supposed to be taking a trip there during spring break. Just another thing I won’t be attending.

I throw the report in the back seat and adjust the heat to ninety, then turn the vents so they blow in my direction. I can see the little beads of sweat building on Fay’s temples, but I can’t help it. I need the heat on blast, even though the temps are climbing to over sixty in February. My body is like a Volkswagen Beetle climbing Mount Everest with a faulty engine. It’s trying hard, but it’s just not happening. I’m still cold.

“I know you had to study, but Andrea’s tiat threw the sickest Super Bowl party at their neighborhood clubhouse. You remember Rick from Mock Trial regionals, right? He’s got that gray patch on the back of his head?” Fay says.

“From Richland Northeast?” I ask, trying my level best to sound upbeat and interested in whatever the hell Rick did at yet another party I missed.

“… and then we sacrificed a cat. It was lit!”

“What about a cat?” I ask, and he just smiles at me. I’m caught. “Ha-ha,” I say dryly. “I have perfect pitch, remember? I hear everything. I was listening.” I don’t sound very convincing.

“No, you weren’t, but it’s cool. I ignore you sometimes too,” Fay says, and winks.

“You do not. You hang on every word I say.”

“Psssh! You make me sound whipped. And your boy is never that,” Fay chides.

“Take me to Krispy Kreme,” I say, and he doesn’t even respond. Fay just makes a U-turn like it was the direction we were supposed to be going this entire time.

The red neon sign in the window glows to let us know the doughnuts are hot and ready, but we turn down the drive-thru instead of going in. Fay turns to place our order. “Can I get two decaf coffees, one black, the other with four sugars and two creams; one blueberry doughnut and two plain.”

I fake the sound of a whip cracking. “How ’bout that,” I say, fighting back the grin spreading across my face.

“Now, now, that’s just me being an accommodating date. Besides, when is a little doughnut break ever a bad idea?”

Fay hands me my coffee. I wrap my hands around the steaming cup and let the warmth rush into my skin as the track changes to “Smooth Operator” by Sade. Fay places the bag of doughnuts next to me and slides his coffee into the holder, then switches to the next song and gives me a pitying look. He knows it’s my absolute favorite melody to play on the saxophone, but my lungs can’t handle the exertion anymore. Now my instrument sits in its case in the corner of my room gathering dust.

Fay backs into a spot right by the front door so we can watch all the other couples on cheap dates. There are at least half a dozen cars in the parking lot, with more in the drive-thru, but the cutest pairs are the older folks sitting inside by the windows.

“Those two are on a date,” I say, pointing my stirrer at two middle-aged guys in New Balance sneakers and fraternity sweatshirts standing in line. “The guy on the left is recently divorced, and the other just moved back to town to take care of his elderly parents.”

“You take point if the Q orders and pays. If the Sigma pays, the story changes.”

I draw in the rich scent of the coffee beans and blow out a breath. “Why?”

“?’Cause the two organizations have fundamentally different personalities. Q’s gotta be the alpha, no pun intended.”

“My granddad would beg to differ, but you’ll find out once Morehouse sends you that acceptance letter,” I say, and stick out my tongue to one side, imitating the countless Omega Psi Phi members I’ve seen strolling at barbecues, weddings, and at least one funeral. He doesn’t laugh like I expect him to.

Fay turns his head and looks out the other side of the window. He’s been avoiding the college conversation but won’t tell me why. I decide not to press him today.

“What do you think they’re talking about after forty years of marriage?” I ask, turning my gaze, and attention, to a couple who look to be in their sixties. Dressed in matching red polo shirts.

“Well, he’s just retired from the post office, and she’s just sent the last of their six children off to college. He’s talking about how he wants to relax, and she’s dreaming about seeing the country. She’ll let him talk a bit, because she’s learned how to let the old man tire himself out after all these years, before she springs the RV plan on him. He won’t say too much about it now, but he’ll bring it back up in a few days like it was his plan all along, and she’ll let him believe it was,” Fay narrates, his voice full of warmth.

“Wow! That’s very detailed.”

“It’s a love story. That’s us in fifty years,” he adds.

I snort. “Let me stop you at six kids.”

“What I wouldn’t have done for a little brother. I hated being an only child,” he says before inhaling his second glazed doughnut in a single bite. The pastries are pillowy soft when they’re warm, but the plain ones make my stomach hurt now. It’s one of those things...

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Verlag
Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Erscheinungsdatum
2021
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
153448597X
ISBN 13 
9781534485976
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
368
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Simon and Schuster Netherlands BV
info@simonandschuster.nl

Herculesplein 96
Utrecht
3584 AA
Niederlande