give young Mr. Rosario a chance.” She pointed right at me. “Don’t mess it up, son.”
That got the audience laughing again, but she was serious, and I was seriously scared. When I glanced over, Dean was smiling.
“Tomás was right. Love shouldn’t divide us. In fact, when we are divided, love is the bridge that keeps us connected. And I will always love my son.”
Thankfully, I wasn’t going to have to take down Dean’s mom on live television. What she’d said was actually pretty sweet. I still wasn’t going to vote for her, though.
“Now,” Governor Arnault said, “seeing as our sons aren’t running for president, why don’t we talk about some real issues?”
Dean
MY TRAIN WAS late getting into the station. If my anxiety could have sped things up, we would have made the trip in no time, but all it did was make the minutes pass more slowly.
I pulled up the news to pass the time. Another story about Jackson McMann. This time he was being indicted for tax fraud. He was already dealing with multiple civil suits filed against him by his investors, criminal trials for a slew of charges related to his use of Promethean to spy on users, and, to top it off, his wife was divorcing him. I tried to find it in me to have a little compassion for the man, but it was difficult.
My phone vibrated. It was the group chat I was in on Promethean, which was now owned by a nonprofit organization that actually cared about security and had eliminated the code that had given McMann backdoor access.
HotTamale: we’re still playing that D&D thing next weekend, right? I got the best character.
Meltdown: yes, but I need your characters soon!!!
MindysGayAF: chaotic evil’s the bad one, right?
Meltdown: you can’t play chaotic evil, Mindy!
MindysGayAF: try and stop me.
Meltdown: dre!
Meltdown: please explain to these people how this game works???
HotTamale: dean, whatre you gonna play?
PrezMamasBoy: I was thinking I might play a cleric. Thoughts?
HotTamale: i figured you for a paladin.
HotTamale: they’re the ones that are all good and shit right?
DreOfTheDead: dean cant play a cleric
Meltdown: ???
PrezMamasBoy: Then what should I play, Dre?
DreOfTheDead: a thief obviously
DreOfTheDead: cause youve already stolen my heart
MindysGayAF: i’m not playing anymore
Meltdown: BOOOOOOOO
HotTamale: take it private you guys
My train finally arrived in Penn Station. I desperately wanted to shove my way past the people in front of me, but I remained patient. It was a skill being Dre’s boyfriend had helped me hone.
Staying together hadn’t been easy. After the election, we both still had to finish our senior year of high school and then graduate. We were able to spend a little time together, but I spent a few weeks volunteering in the Urubamba area of Peru, working to provide clean sources of water, and Dre went traveling through Europe. We both had our choice of colleges, and while it had been tempting to choose schools that were geographically near one another, we made a pact not to base our decisions on that. I chose Harvard and Dre chose Columbia. We weren’t able to see each other every day or even every weekend, but we made time when we could and we made it work.
Our parents had all come to accept that this was the new normal, though my mother was still shamelessly trying to set me up with that Republican senator’s son. I doubted our families would ever sit in the White House together sharing a holiday meal, but anything was possible.
Finally, I got off the train at Penn Station and made my way in, keeping an eye out for Dre. We hadn’t seen each other for three weeks, and it had felt like forever.
“Nice socks,” said a voice behind me.
I pulled up my pants to reveal my bright yellow socks covered in pink hearts. “Thank you. My boyfriend gave them to me.”
“Boyfriend? Shucks. The sixes are always taken.”
I slapped Dre’s arm. “Kiss me before I kill you.”
And he did. Dre kissed me and everything fell into place. I forgot about missing him and how much I hated being apart. I lived in that kiss, ignoring the people watching us. There was always someone watching and taking pictures and trying to write stories about us. I no longer cared.
“Miss me?” Dre asked.
“A little.”
Dre rolled his eyes. “All right. I’ve got the whole weekend planned—”
“Is your roommate going to be there this time? It’s weird when he watches us make out.”
Dre shook his head. “We’ve got the place to ourselves.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I do have homework to do, though, so we have to make time for that.”
“Only you would bring homework to do on our romantic weekend.”
“Homework is sexy. Philosophy homework is sexiest of all.”
Dre laughed because what else was he going to do?
“And we’ve got the Drag Queens Read event on Sunday morning. Are you sure you want to do this? Your mom is definitely going to see the pictures.”
I hadn’t told my mother I’d agreed to let Dre dress me in drag so that I could read stories to kids, and I wasn’t sure how she was going to react, but I was living my best life and she would just have to deal with it.
“I’ve been thinking of names.”
Dre took my hand and led me toward the doors. “I’m scared,” he said. “Let’s hear ’em.”
“Juno Edid.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Like Betty Don’t?” he said. “Betty Don’t. Juno Edid. It sounds better when you say it out loud.”
“No it doesn’t. Next.”
“Dinah Meetya?”
“It’s fine. You don’t need a name.”
“Augusta Wind.”
“How much worse is it gonna get?”
“Dixie—”
“Nope!”
“I love you, Dre.”
Dre leaned his head against my shoulder as we walked, and I had never felt so happy. “I love you too, Dean. You’re still not using any of those names.”
Acknowledgments
Writing The State of Us has been an absolute joy in every way, but bringing Dean and Dre’s story to life wouldn’t have been possible without the help of some amazing people.
I want to thank Dave Linker for trusting me with this story, and for his steady guidance throughout. Carolina Ortiz for her exceptional insight and always thoughtful questions. Jessica Berg for pulling everything together and Jen Strada for her copyediting wizardry (and for loving em dashes as much as I do). I also want to thank Corina Lupp, who designed the cover, and Mia Nolting, who provided the illustrations, for creating a cover that is nothing less than a celebration of love.
This is my first book with HarperTeen, and I know that there are a thousand people behind the scenes I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet who have been and will be absolutely instrumental to The State of Us. I hope that I’ll get to continue working with you all so that I can one day thank you in person. Until then, thank you for all your hard work. It means the world to me.
As always, I owe endless gratitude to Katie Shea Boutillier, who steers the ship and keeps me from foundering. I also owe many thanks to the entire team at Donald Maass, which has been with me through nine books now, and remains the solid foundation upon which I am able to build my career.
I wouldn’t be able to write a single word without the tireless support of my family. They may not always understand what I’m talking about, but they always listen.
In addition to being my first book for HarperTeen, The State of Us is also the first book I wrote in full in Seattle, and I want to give a shout-out to the outstanding team at Third Place Books, especially Avery Peregrine, for making me feel so welcome in a new city.
I owe any success I’ve had to the teachers and librarians whose love and support has sometimes been the only thing that kept me going. The work they do so often goes unrecognized, but I want them to know that we see them and appreciate all that they do.
And, finally, thank you, readers. Dean and Dre exist because of you.
About the Author
Photo credit Chris Piedra
SHAUN DAVID HUTCHINSON is the award-winning author of several books for young adults and the editor of multiple young adult anthologies. A native Floridian, Shaun currently resides in Seattle, where he spends his free time running, baking, and designing virtual worlds. He can be found online at www.shaundavidhutchinson.com or on Twitter @shauniedarko.
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