Nicole Tyndall’s debut novel Coming Up for Air won’t be hitting bookshelves until December, but we’ve got your first look at the beautiful cover and the first chapter right here, right now.

Coming Up for Air is a contemporary YA novel that speaks to some of the deeper “coming of age” undercurrents, including first love, addiction, loss, and finding yourself in unexpected ways and places. It honestly sounds like it’d be the perfect read for fans of The Spectacular Now, Together We Caught Fire, and The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

Many novel covers use their design to catch readers’ eyes, but don’t necessarily reflect the contents within. However, though we haven’t cracked it open just yet, Coming Up for Air’s cover (designed by Casey Moses and created by Pedro Tapa) conveys the same feeling as the first chapter and excerpt. It’s simple yet intricate, bold yet kind of soothing, but not without a bit of darkness.

From the looks of the cover, as well as the sound of the exclusive excerpt we have waiting for you just below, you’re going to want to preorder this debut novel ASAP.

Feast your eyes on the cover for Nicole Tyndall ‘Coming Up for Air’!

For fans of Nina LaCour and The Spectacular Now, Coming Up for Air is a powerful coming-of-age story about a girl with creative aspirations and the boy who charms his way into her life, centering on themes of addiction, loss, and the tumultuousness of first love—and how to find strength when everything falls apart.

Ever since her mom’s cancer scare, Hadley hasn’t been one for taking risks. And after seeing her sister go through one too many heartbreaks, she definitely has no interest in dating. Hadley just wants to keep her head down and enjoy the rest of high school with her friends, focusing on her photography and getting into the art school of her dreams.

Then enters Braden, star of the swim team and precisely the kind of person Hadley avoids, all bravado and charm and impulsivity. From their first moment together, they are perfect sparring partners, equally matched. And it’s intoxicating. Braden sees her, really sees her, and Hadley decides it might be time to break all her rules.

Braden shows Hadley how to live again, and soon Hadley is happier than she’ll ever admit out loud. But that’s before her family is faced with devastating news, and Braden starts hiding a growing, dark secret. As it threatens to shatter everything they’ve built, Hadley must confront her own actions and determine if she has the strength to walk away.

Get an exclusive preview of the first chapter from ‘Coming Up for Air’

Chapter 1

“Please, I need to see him.” My throat is tight and the desperation in my voice hurts my ears, but I force the words out. “I know what you’re going to say, but, just . . . please?”

The thirtysomething nurse, standing in front of me in light blue scrubs, answers patiently. “I’m sorry. His paperwork is clear. I can’t let you back.”

I feel like I’m watching, listening, from far away. This woman is my total opposite. She’s calm and composed, and it makes the frustration inside me reach new heights. I want to yell, I’m not hysterical! Which I realize will probably only make things worse. I force myself to stay quiet. To think before I speak.

I can’t argue with her. She’s right. It’s well after three in the morning. But I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stand not being here. And I guess I thought maybe the hospital operated by different rules in the middle of the night. Nighttime can have that kind of magic. Braden is the one who taught me that. But he’s the one with the tricks, not me.

I take a deep breath. “Can you just . . . Does it say my name, specifically? Does it say ‘Hadley Butler’?” I look around as I ask, hoping I won’t find any familiar faces.

Her expression, full of pity, cuts like a knife. “It says ‘no visitors.’”

“None? None at all?”

“Just his parents.”

Panic surges through me. I search the room. “Are they here?” Of course they’re here. Their teenage son is in the hospital, where else would they be?

“They’re resting in the med inn. And yes, they’re here.” Relief courses through me. I might get away with vising without anybody knowing.

I look back up at the nurse. The hospital lights are harsh on her face, casting unforgiving shadows under her eyes and at her cheekbones. My fingers, hanging empty at my sides, long for the familiar weight of my camera. If I were to photograph her in this light, it would be easy to frame her as a villain: the Gatekeeper. But it’s not her fault, I remind myself. She’s not the bad guy.

“Can you just tell me if he’s stable?”

“I can’t share medical information with anyone but family.”

“Is there anything you can do?” I plead, my questions piling atop one another like bricks of an abandoned haunted house. I can’t help it. Because if the tables were turned, I’m positive that he would find a way to visit me. Rules have never meant much to Braden Roberts. But I did. Despite everything, I know that.

Hope drains from me when I meet her apologetic eyes.

I try one last thing. “If I gave you a note, would you give it to him? I mean, I know he can’t read it now. But it’d be there for him, you know, when . . .” I trail off. I’m not sure how to finish the sentence.

I feel at my pockets. Before I drove over here, I sat in my bedroom and frantically scribbled three different versions of a letter. One pathetically details how much I love him; another is an apology, long and rambling; and the shortest one is furious, cursing him for his weakness—cruel and unfair, maybe, but I meant every word. I was going to choose one in the moment, but, really, the only way to be honest would be to give him all three. I fish for them with my fingers.

The nurse sighs. “I . . . I think you should probably just head home. It’s late, and doesn’t school start tomorrow?”

How am I supposed to start senior year without him?

She doesn’t wait for an answer, continuing, “If you’re looking for more information on Mr. Roberts—”

“His name is Braden.” And if he were awake, he’d charm you into having all the visitors in the world.

She takes a long look at me before she says, “If you want more information on Braden, I suggest you reach out to his parents. I’ll make sure they know you were here.”

I take a step backward. “No. um—” Shit. Shitshitshit. “It’s okay.” Braden’s mom made it perfectly clear that she did not want me here. She might even think I’m the reason her son is in the hospital at all. And maybe I am, a small, scared voice whispers from the depths of my mind. I shake my head, gaze unfocused on my feet. “Okay. I guess . . . I’ll just go.”

I can hardly believe that for all the ways I can claim Braden as my own, none of them will get me past those doors.

I walk away slowly, noting each step that takes me farther away from him, wondering how I will survive the wondering. Did he see it coming? Did he feel it, the moment he lost control? Was he afraid? But most of all: Is he going to be okay?

“Hey, miss? Um, Hadley? Right?” The nurse’s voice finds me down the hall, just before the exit.

As I turn, a small optimism sparks inside me. “Yeah?”

“He’s eighteen, your boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend.” My voice cracks on the word. “But yeah.”

She nods. She knew his age; it’s on his chart. Her eyes are kind. “Right now, it’s up to his parents. But as an adult, Braden can make the choice for himself, who he wants to see—once he’s able. If your behavior is any indicator . . .” She pauses. “I bet he’ll contact you, when he can.”

I open my mouth to argue that, after today, he might never want to see me again. And I definitely shouldn’t want to see him.

But then her words hit me.

She’s saying that he’ll call me once he’s conscious. When, not if. She thinks he’s going to be okay. Relief burns my eyes.

It’s ambiguous. It might not really mean much. And I wish that I could see that he’s breathing, that he’s here, but I understand that this information is a gift. She isn’t supposed to tell me anything at all about his status. I mean it when I say thank you.

Even with that small piece of information, I still feel defeated as I get into my car. The feeling only deepens when I notice my Great Lakes University portfolio, my most important college application, sitting on the passenger seat. Over the past few weeks, I’ve spent hours and hours getting it ready, debating each photograph in every way I can imagine. I pull the book onto my lap and open the front cover, knowing he’ll be there. He’ll be healthy, alive. So alive. My eyes fill, and all I can make out is a smear of peach. Remembering him like that, electric and urgent, makes my insides riot.

For just a moment, I let it take over—the kind of angry crying that feels like it’s escaping too fast and too hard, like bats swarming from a cave. I picture hundreds of them, hairy and the color of ash, flying out of my twisted mouth. I watch their imaginary wings flap in circles around my car, until suddenly I can’t stand it.

I throw my door open and grab the bound photos, march to the closest garbage, and slam the book into it with a satisfying clang.

I’ll make a new portfolio. Without him. Or maybe just of him. Or maybe I won’t make one at all. Great Lakes has been my longest-standing goal, a worry and desire constantly lingering just past my fingertips, but compared to life and death, it’s nothing at all.

I take a deep breath, slamming the car door closed behind me. Get ahold of yourself. I sit up straight and wipe my eyes in the rearview mirror. I tilt my head up and down, staring at my reflection, letting the shadows on my face echo the ones I saw on the nurse’s earlier. I look like a Francesca Woodman photograph: haunting and haunted.

I check my phone. It’s three fifty-two in the morning.

Fifty-two minutes since I arrived.

Time is supposed to heal. But I’m not sure exactly what should heal in this case. Maybe some parts of it need to stay broken.

He and I need to stay broken.

I turn the key in the ignition, knowing I should head home but hesitant to leave him there, alone. I move in a fog until somehow, I reach my driveway.

When I open the side door of the house, I don’t even bother to muffle the jingle of my keys or the thud of my purse on the floor. Nobody stirs to ask me where I’ve been. You’d think I’d be used to the quiet by now, but the reality is lonely and hollow. Feeling like a ghost of myself, I move to my room, shut the door, and crawl into bed.

One night has passed, and so far, time isn’t holding up its end of the bargain.

Coming Up for Air by Nicole Tyndall will be available on December 15, 2020, and you can preorder it from your preferred bookseller right now. Also, don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads “to read” shelf!