CHAPTER ONE
THE GIRL
Filomena Jefferson-Cho walks along the sidewalk, looking down and wondering if there are more cracks in the curb than terrible things that happened to her today. Because in her small, sleepy, and perpetually sunny hometown of North Pasadena, California, where nothing ever happens, she’s quickly learning that anything that can go wrong … will.
At least for her.
School sucked. She’d left her laptop at home, which triggered an automatic demerit; the cafeteria was out of the “good” chocolate milk; and she got a C-minus on her Algebra One Honors quiz. And even though she’s the only sixth grader in eighth-grade algebra, which is an honor in itself, it still stung.
Worst of all, her best friend, Maggie Martin, is currently ignoring her to hang out with the Fettucine Alfredos—the obnoxious rich kids who order fancy pasta delivered from the snooty restaurant across the street. Unlike the rest of the class, who line up for hot lunch or eat the same old vegan bologna sandwich, like Filomena does every day.
But there are a few bright spots in her day, for which Filomena is grateful. One, her neurotic and way too overprotective parents finally allowed her to walk somewhere alone for once. Two, the thirteenth and final book in the Never After series was released today.
Oh, joy! Oh, profound happiness! A new book! And not just a book but the finale to the series! All the questions answered! The princess rescued! The villains vanquished! The hero’s journey victorious at last!
It’s the best thing to have happened since the last book in the series came out. Maybe the best thing to have happened even since the latest smartphone was released. The one with the better camera and the talking cartoon emoji. Or was that two new smartphones ago? Who can keep track?
Filomena can’t contain her excitement, especially as she’s allowed to go pick it up all by herself. Her parents never let her walk anywhere alone, and she’s twelve years old, for British Kit Kats’ sake. Yeah, British Kit Kats. They’re smaller and yet … somehow more chocolaty. She prefers them to the bigger and infinitely less tasty American version. Most things that are bigger are not necessarily better, she has discovered.
But back to the point: her overshelteredness. It’s reached the point of suffocation. She can hardly breathe most days! She deserves some freedom, a little trust here and there. A playdate or two, maybe? To ride a bike or scooter without a helmet and an irrational and overwhelming fear of bad guys lurking nearby, just waiting to snatch her up?
For as long as Filomena can remember, her parents have been talking about all kinds of abductions, even legends about fairies who steal kids, switching them for one of their own. Her parents have very vivid imaginations. (They’re writers. It comes with the territory.)
Filomena’s parents treat her like a precious treasure, a cherished gift. Little do they know that most people actually avoid her. Or bully her. Or make fun of her. At least, people her age do. Everyone else just seems generally uninterested in her. Come to think of it, maybe it would be better if she was snatched by fairies.
Maybe fairies would be nicer than most kids. Maybe if they were half goat and half human, or had glowing green skin and horns, they wouldn’t tease her for being smart, wouldn’t ask her where she came from (here) or rudely wonder if she was black or Asian or white or what on earth was she (all of the above). For the record, she has curly dark hair, dark brown eyes, and skin the color of maple syrup. Maybe fairies wouldn’t think she was weird for reading so much; instead, they’d pick her brain about it—literally. Oh, wait, that’s aliens, not fairies, and maybe that would be bad …
Either way, it doesn’t matter to her parents. The bottom line is that Filomena is never allowed to walk home from school by herself. Or go anywhere by herself, for that matter. They made it crystal clear that this afternoon would be the one and only exception, because they know how important the Never After books are to her. And since both her mom and dad had looming deadlines, they weren’t able to give her a ride to the bookstore.
Still, regardless of their smothering and overly protective ways, Filomena loves her parents. She also loves her Pomeranian puppy, Adelina Jefferson-Cho. And her beta goldfish, Serafina Jefferson-Cho.
She named them that way so that they would all sound like they belong in the same family. The way some families give all their kids names that rhyme (Stan, Jan, Fran) or names that all start with the same letter (Carrie, Corey, Caitlyn). It screams, “Hey! We’re a family unit, in case you couldn’t tell by our appearances!”
Because people sure can’t tell by the Jefferson-Chos’ appearances. Filomena is adopted. Her dad is Korean-Filipino and her mom is British. No one in her family looks like the others. And despite her parents’ compassion and kindness and deep abiding love, she often wonders if they have any idea how she feels. How not knowing who your biological kin are or what they look like can plague you. How wondering why you were given up can haunt you, making you feel sort of un-special from the start. No matter how special her parents did make her feel.
So, yeah, “family” means a lot more to her than it might mean to the average twelve-year-old. It means almost as much as the doe-eyed singer who just left the world’s hottest boy band to start a solo career. Riley Raymond probably means just as much to the vast majority of other girls her age, and even to an immeasurable number of boys her age. The boys just might not admit it yet because kids can be so evil. They poke and poke and poke at anything they can find that’s different about you.
Filomena hates that about humans as much as she adores Riley Raymond’s floppy brown hair and falsetto singing voice.
What else does she adore? Many things. Well, she doesn’t love any one thing, animal, parent, or pop-star heartthrob in any particular order. However, what she might love the absolute most (don’t tell her parents) are the books in the Never After series.
And the thirteenth and final book is out today.
THE THIRTEENTH AND FINAL BOOK IS OUT TODAY! (Use megaphone here.)
But she’s cool. She’s not running to the bookstore.
Nah, she’s cool as a cucumber. Walking. Backpack slung over her shoulder. And it doesn’t have princesses on it, either, okay? She’s not a child. Not anymore. Not like her parents consider her, anyway.
Her backpack is sleek, stylish. It’s black with gray straps, and instead of a princess, or a cute animal with extra-large eyes, or a fancy designer logo, it has the sigil of Never After on it—a gold circle around a tree with a heart carved on its trunk. Inside the backpack are Never After–themed pencils and a Never After pencil case. Proving devotion to the fandom through merchandise is one of her favorite hobbies. If she could get a Never After tattoo, she would, but she’s too young, and her mother forbade it.
She can nearly smell the bookstore from here. It’s maybe another fifty steps away. She’s got everything she needs.
The money to buy the book? Check.
The blaringly loud whistle her mother gave her before she left for school this morning, just in case she needed a way to alert others that she was in danger on the walk home? Check.
Her favorite Never After bookmark, just waiting to be placed in the new book she’s about to buy? Check.
A huge grin on her face that she’s trying to stifle but unfortunately cannot, because she’s too excited for words? CHECK.
After the day she’s had, this book is pretty much her prize simply for surviving the last eight hours.
Text copyright © 2020 by Melissa de la Cruz
Illustrations copyright © 2020 by James Madsen
