Rachel Cohn - Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

First published in the USA in 2006 by Alfred A Knopf,

an imprint of Random House Children’s Books,

a division of Random House Inc, New York

First published in Great Britain in 2014

by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text copyright © 2006 Rachel Cohn and David Levithan

The moral rights of the authors have been asserted

First e-book edition 2014

ISBN 978 1 4052 7243 8

eISBN 978 1 7803 1500 3

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publicattion may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

EGMONT

Our story began over a century ago, when seventeen-year-old Egmont Harald Petersen found a coin in the street. He was on his way to buy a flyswatter, a small hand-operated printing machine that he then set up in his tiny apartment.

The coin brought him such good luck that today Egmont has offices in over 30 countries around the world. And that lucky coin is still kept at the company’s head offices in Denmark.

To Martha and Real Nick

Electric Monkey books by David Levithan

Every Day

How They Met and Other Stories

Two Boys Kissing

Written with Rachel Cohn

Naomi and Ely’s No Kiss List

Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist

Cover

Title Page

Copyright First published in the USA in 2006 by Alfred A Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House Inc, New York First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN Text copyright © 2006 Rachel Cohn and David Levithan The moral rights of the authors have been asserted First e-book edition 2014 ISBN 978 1 4052 7243 8 eISBN 978 1 7803 1500 3 www.egmont.co.uk A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library All rights reserved. No part of this publicattion may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet. EGMONT Our story began over a century ago, when seventeen-year-old Egmont Harald Petersen found a coin in the street. He was on his way to buy a flyswatter, a small hand-operated printing machine that he then set up in his tiny apartment. The coin brought him such good luck that today Egmont has offices in over 30 countries around the world. And that lucky coin is still kept at the company’s head offices in Denmark.

Dedication To Martha and Real Nick

Front series promotional page Electric Monkey books by David Levithan Every Day How They Met and Other Stories Two Boys Kissing Written with Rachel Cohn Naomi and Ely’s No Kiss List Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist

1. NICK

2. NORAH

3. NICK

4. NORAH

5. NICK

6. NORAH

7. NICK

8. NORAH

9. NICK

10. NORAH

11. NICK

12. NORAH

13. NICK

14. NORAH

15. NICK

16. NORAH

17. NICK

18. NORAH

19. NICK

20. NORAH

THE ACKNOWLEDGMENTS PLAYLIST

Back series promotional page

The day begins in the middle of the night. I am not paying attention to anything but the bass in my hand, the noise in my ears. Dev is screaming, Thom is flailing, and I am the clockwork, I am the one who takes this thing called music and lines it up with this thing called time. I am the ticking, I am the pulsing, I am underneath every part of this moment. We don’t have a drummer. Dev has thrown off his shirt and Thom is careening into feedback and I am behind them, I am the generator. I am listening and I am not listening because what I’m playing isn’t something I’m thinking about, it’s something I’m feeling all over. All eyes are on us. Or at least that’s what I can imagine in my stageblindness. It’s a small room and we’re a big noise and I am the nonqueer bassist in a queercore band who is filling the room with undertone as Dev sing-screams, Fuck the Man / Fuck the Man / I really want to / Fuck the Man . I am punctuating and I am puncturing and I am punching the air with my body as my fingers press hard into the chords. Sweat, malice, and hunger pour from me. This is release, or maybe it’s just a plea for release. Dev is wailing now and Thom is crashing and even though my feet don’t move I am traveling hard. I look past the light and see people shaking, people jumping around, people watching as Dev takes the microphone into his mouth and keeps yelling the words. I throw the chords at them, I drench them in the soundwaves, I am making time so loud that they have to hear it. I am stronger than words and I am bigger than the box I’m in, and then I see her in the crowd and I fall apart.

I fucking told her not to come. While she was busy ripping me into pieces, that was the one fragment I begged to keep. Please don’t come to the shows. I don’t want to see you there . And she had said yes, and it hadn’t been a lie then. But it turned into a lie at some point, because here she is, and my fingers are losing their place, and my buzz is losing its edge, and everything about me goes from crying out to just plain crying – all in the time it takes for me to see the shape of her lips. And then I see – oh fuck no – that she’s not alone, that she’s with some guy, and while she’ll say she’s come to watch me, there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s come so I can watch her. It’s over , she’d said, and wasn’t that the biggest lie of all? I am stumbling through the notes and Dev is onto the next verse and Thom is playing a little faster than he should, so I have to catch up as she leans into this guy and rocks her head like I’m making this music for her, when if I could, I would take it all away and give her as much silence as she’s given me pain.

I try to keep up with Dev and Thom. We’re called The Fuck Offs tonight, but that’s a new name and it’ll probably only last three gigs before Dev comes up with another. We’ve already been Porn Yesterday, The Black Hand-kerchiefs, The Vengeful Hairdressers, and None Of Your Business. I don’t really use my vote, except to veto Dev’s stupider ideas. (“Dude,” I had to tell him, “nobody wants to see a band called Dickache .”) Dev’s out to pierce the pierced, tattoo the tattooed, and have his way with the messy punk boys who come to our shows not knowing they’ll end up wanting to mess around with the guy challenging How big is your cocker spaniel? into the mic. Dev’s from a town in Jersey called Lodi, and that makes perfect sense to me, since he’s nothing if not an idol in reverse. Thom’s from South Orange, and has only had an ‘h’ in his first name for the past two months. I’m from Hoboken, as close to the city as you can get without actually being in the city. On nights like this, with a chance to play in front of more than just our friends, I’d swim across the Hudson if I had to, in order to get to this cave of a club. At least until Tris shows up and I find myself bleeding invisibly across the stage.