In this sequel to Ruby and Morgan fell for each other during their senior year of high school, and now, almost a year later, they are determined to keep their spark alive, even while they are apart. Morgan is studying public policy on a track scholarship at a university several hours away, while Ruby stayed in their hometown and is exploring her love of mechanics in the automotive engineering program at the local community college. Despite their best efforts, the space between them begins to weigh on the girls, with new friendships and flirtatious classmates adding complications. Still, the two are counting down the days to a spring break getaway and the bliss of a whole summer vacation together. But when Morgan discovers she’s a finalist for the

Autorentext
Jennifer Dugan is an awkward romantic who writes across many genres and categories. Her debut young adult novel, Hot Dog Girl, was called a “great fizzy rom-com” by Entertainment Weekly and “one of the best reads of the year, hands down” by Paste Magazine, although she is best known for Some Girls Do, which took TikTok by storm. Her other novels include Girls Like Us, the sequel to Some Girls Do; Summer Girls; Playing for Keeps; The Last Girls Standing; and Melt With You. Jennifer has also collaborated with artist Kit Seaton on the graphic novels Full Shift and Coven, which was a GLAAD Outstanding Original Graphic Novel Nominee. She lives in upstate New York.

Klappentext

In this sequel to Some Girls Do, two girls struggle when long distance complicates their relationship.

Ruby and Morgan fell for each other during their senior year of high school, and now, almost a year later, they are determined to keep their spark alive, even while they are apart. Morgan is studying public policy on a track scholarship at a university several hours away, while Ruby stayed in their hometown and is exploring her love of mechanics in the automotive engineering program at the local community college.

Despite their best efforts, the space between them begins to weigh on the girls, with new friendships and flirtatious classmates adding complications. Still, the two are counting down the days to a spring break getaway and the bliss of a whole summer vacation together. But when Morgan discovers she’s a finalist for the perfect internship and Ruby gets a shot to appear on her favorite automotive TV show, their plans are thrown into question. With both girls unwilling to stand in the way of each other’s future, they wonder: Can their relationship still go the distance even if they’re on separate paths?

Leseprobe
1
RUBY
The air ratchet sends vibrations running through my hand as I mess with this stubborn bolt.

The sensation travels up my arm and through my body until I swear I can feel it buzzing inside every single one of my bones. I’m going to scream if I can’t get this part unstuck. I drop my arm and wipe some sweat off my brow—I’ve probably just smeared grease across my forehead, but I don’t even care. I need a second to recalibrate before I hoist the air ratchet again. Still, I have to get this done fast . . . or else risk dying of heatstroke.

It’s usually cold in the garage these days, despite it being fairly mild for early January, but my stepdad—and boss—Billy got a new heat pump for his office and moved his old space heater out here into the main bay. He’s helpfully pointed it at me as I shift around on my creeper, the small platform with wheels I use to slide back and forth beneath vehicles. That means it’s a steamy two thousand degrees in here today, or at least it feels like it, all while I’m stuck wrestling with a shitty stripped bolt beneath this old Jeep Wrangler instead of kiss­ing Morgan on her last full day home for winter break.

In a perfect world, I’d be glued to her side, like I have been almost every second since she got home last month. Her par­ents even came up here for the week of Christmas, since the old house still holds a lot of bad memories for her. It was nice to have everyone together, even if it does kind of suck to think that Morgan still feels like she doesn’t belong in the town she grew up in.

I’m pretty sure my brain short-circuited when my girl­friend informed me that, actually, she didn’t think it sucked at all because I felt like home to her.

Jesus. You can’t just walk around saying stuff like that and expect me not to be a ball of electrical current and dirty thoughts. Unfortunately, she said this on Christmas Eve, in front of her parents, so I had to sit there acting like everything was fine and Morgan hadn’t just flipped my universe on its head again.

Her parents went home a few days later, and I’ve pretty much had her to myself since then. I mean, we aren’t rude or anything. We hang out with her brother, Dylan, and his girl­friend, Keisha, who has become just as big of a staple around his apartment as I am. But mostly, it’s just me and her, soaking up every single second we can.

I’m trying not to begrudge her parents for coming back up for dinner last night, which I was invited to, and then staying over to take her out shopping today “one- on-one”—which I’m pretty sure was a polite way of saying no Rubys allowed.

I get it, fully, and I’m not mad or anything . . . but Morgan had already made afternoon plans with Danny, a friend of hers from the LGBTQ+ resource center that she used to work at. He’s been basically spearheading the Rainbow Athlete Coalition they started last year ever since she left for school in August. I guess they need to start figuring out how to adjust things to keep it running, now that he’s going to be graduating and going away to school this year too.

Like I said, all good things, but I wish it wasn’t so hard to balance friends and family time. I know it’s not fair, but if I could keep her all to myself? I selfishly would. I only get to see her for a few short weeks, and then she’s gone again, four hours down the highway. A whole hour closer for her parents, I might add, who go and watch her races at school all the time.

With my class and work schedule, and her class and practice schedule, Morgan and I rely on FaceTime and texting to keep the spark alive. It definitely doesn’t help that my old Ford Torino is awful on gas and hates long drives. Billy’s mostly using whatever cars we’re working up on the side as his daily driver—a 1978 Dodge Adventurer in his case, and a 1972 Chevy Camaro in mine—so he’s no help either. I took the bus down once last semester, and she took it home once too, but it’s a far cry from how much time we used to have together.

I’m just glad Billy had this job for me to do today to help pass the time. I had originally planned for today off until I heard about Morgan’s parents’ impromptu shopping trip. I’m counting down the time until I can see her tonight—just seven more hours and I’ll have her all to myself. But . . . yeah, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want her all to myself now and later.

I lift the air ratchet and get back to work.

Before I can get too lost in my head about it all, someone gently kicks at my sneaker, the only visible part of me while I work on the car. I slide out from under it, fully expecting it to be Billy telling me it’s time for my lunch break, but I’m delighted to see Morgan there instead. And not just Morgan, but Morgan holding up two greasy bags of takeout from Mama’s.

I’ve never ripped my earbuds out so fast in my life.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, g…