The second book in the Banished series, 2011

Some books come easier than others. This one was a joy. Two people made it better than I could have imagined: Barbara Poelle, my agent, who knew exactly what was missing in the first draft-and my editor, Stephanie Elliott, who took time out of a very exciting year to bring the book to life.

“ELEVEN’S LIKE… THE NEW TEN,” Jess said, cracking herself up and spitting Coke on Gojo’s coffee table. It had a glass top that showed every mark-fingerprints, smudges of guacamole, and the crumbs from the chips, which were made of blue corn but tasted like every other chip I’d ever had.

Still, it was a first, and out of habit I said the words in my head. Blue corn chips. When I got home-which had better be soon-I’d write it in my journal. It would be number 62.

But that was for later. Right now I had to focus.

“That makes no sense,” Charlotte said, licking salt off her fingers. She was sitting on the floor between Gojo’s legs. He leaned back on the couch with a beer dangling loose in one hand, the fingers of the other playing with Charlotte’s wavy red hair.

It was Gojo’s fifth beer since we’d gotten here. I’d counted.

“No, you know, really,” Jess said, managing to stop giggling only to start up again. I was pretty sure she didn’t usually drink as much as she had tonight. Not like Charlotte, who drank more than Jess and me put together and you couldn’t tell. “Eleven o’clock isn’t as late now that we’re going to be juniors. It’s like the new ten o’clock. You know, like… black is the new… no, wait.”