David Levithan - Someday

First published in the USA in 2018

by Alfred A Knopf,

an imprint of Random House Children’s Books,

a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York

First published in Great Britain in 2018

by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited

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

Text copyright © 2018 David Levithan

The moral rights of the author have been asserted

First e-book edition 2018

ISBN 978 1 4052 8388 5

Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1788 5

www.egmont.co.uk

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

All rights reserved. No part of this publication 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.

Please note: Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont cannot take responsibility for any third party content or advertising. 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 takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. We aim to use papers from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

For Hailey

(May you find happiness every day)

Electric Monkey books by David Levithan

Every Day

Another Day

How They Met and Other Stories

Marly’s Ghost

Two Boys Kissing

Written with Rachel Cohn

Naomi and Ely’s No Kiss List

Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist

The Twelve Days of Dash and Lily

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright First published in the USA in 2018 by Alfred A Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN Text copyright © 2018 David Levithan The moral rights of the author have been asserted First e-book edition 2018 ISBN 978 1 4052 8388 5 Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1788 5 www.egmont.co.uk A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library All rights reserved. No part of this publication 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. Please note: Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont cannot take responsibility for any third party content or advertising. 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 takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. We aim to use papers from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

Dedication For Hailey (May you find happiness every day)

RHIANNON

NATHAN

X

A: Day 6065

A: Day 6076

X

NATHAN

RHIANNON

A: Day 6082

RHIANNON

X

A: Day 6088

A: Day 6089

NATHAN

X

RHIANNON

A: Day 6099

A: Day 6100

X

A: Day 6101

NATHAN

A: Day 6102

A: Day 6103

A: Day 6104

X

A: Day 6106

RHIANNON

X

A: Day 6107

MONA, AGE 98

HELMUT, AGE 64

MORRIS, AGE 5

X

AEMON, AGE 18

A: Day 6132

RHIANNON

A: Day 6133

RHIANNON

A: Day 6133 (continued)

RHIANNON

DAWN, AGE 45

A: Day 6133 (continued)

RHIANNON

A: Day 6133 (continued)

RHIANNON

A: Day 6133 (continued)

RHIANNON

A: Day 6133 (continued)

RHIANNON

A: Day 6133 (continued)

RHIANNON

X

NATHAN

A: Day 6133 (continued)

RHIANNON

NATHAN

X

A: Day 6134

RHIANNON

A: Day 6135

X

RHIANNON

A: Day 6138

A: Day 6139

RHIANNON

A: Day 6139 (continued)

NATHAN

X

A: Day 6140

RHIANNON

A: Day 6141

A: Day 6142

WYATT

A: Day 6142 (continued)

RHIANNON

LIAM, AGE 18

NATHAN

RHIANNON

A: Day 6359

Acknowledgments

RHIANNON

Every time the doorbell rings, I think it might be A. Every time someone looks at me for a beat too long. Every time a message arrives in my inbox. Every time the phone displays a number I don’t know. For a second or two, I fool myself into believing.

It’s hard to remember someone when you don’t know what they look like. Because A changes from day to day, it’s impossible to choose a memory and have it mean more than that single day. No matter how I picture A, it’s not going to be what A looks like now. I remember A as a boy and as a girl, as tall and short, skin and hair all different colors. A blur. But the blur takes the shape of how A made me feel, and that may be the most accurate shape of all.

A has been gone a month. I should be used to it. But how can there be any separation when A is in so many of my thoughts? Isn’t that as close as you can get to another person, to have them constantly inside your head?

As I’m thinking all these things, feeling all these things, I can’t let any of them show. Look at me and you will see: A girl who has finally buried the remains of her last bad relationship. A girl with a great new boyfriend. A girl with friends who support her and a family that isn’t more annoying than any other family. You will not see anything missing—you will not sense the part of her that’s been left inside someone else. Maybe if you look into her eyes long enough and know what to look for. But the point is: The person who knew how to look at me like that is gone.

My boyfriend, Alexander, knows there’s something I’m not telling him, but he’s not the kind of guy who wants to know everything. He gives me space. He tells me it’s fine to take things slow. I can tell that he’s fallen for me, that he really wants this to work. I want it to work, too.

But I also want A.

Even if we can’t be together. Even if we’re no longer near each other. Even if all I get is a hello, and not even a how are you? —I want to know where A is, and that A thinks of me at least some of the time. Even if it means nothing now, I want to know it meant something once.

The doorbell rings. I am the only one home. My thoughts race to A—I allow myself to picture the stranger at the door who isn’t really a stranger. I imagine the light in his eyes, or maybe her eyes. I imagine A saying a solution has been found, a way has been devised to stay in the same body for longer than a single day without hurting anyone.

“Coming!” I yell out. I’m stupidly nervous as I get to the door and throw it open.

The boy I find there is familiar, but at first I don’t recognize him.

“Are you Rhiannon?” he asks.

As I nod, I’m realizing who he is.

“Nathan?” I say.

Now he’s surprised, too.

“I know you, don’t I?” he asks.