“The Nate series by Tim Federle is a wonderful evocation of what it’s like to be a theater kid. Highly recommended.” —Lin-Manuel Miranda, star and creator of the musical, Hamilton “An exceptional swan song for a beloved character.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review) Third time’s a charm! Nate Foster returns home to Jankburg, Pennsylvania, to face his biggest challenge yet—high school—in this final novel in the Lambda Literary Award–winning Nate trilogy, which The New York Times calls “inspired and inspiring.” When the news hits that E.T.: The Musical wasn’t nominated for a single Tony Award—not one!—the show closes, leaving Nate both out of luck and out of a job. And while Nate’s cast mates are eager to move on (the boy he understudies already landed a role on a TV show!), Nate knows it’s back to square one, also known as Jankburg, Pennsylvania. Where horror (read: high school) awaits. Desperate to turn his life from flop to fabulous, Nate takes on a huge freshman English project with his BFF, Libby: he’s going to make a musical out of Charles Dickens’s Great Expectations . (What could possibly go…right?) But when Nate’s New York crush ghosts him, and his grades start to slip, he finds the only thing harder than being on Broadway is being a freshman — especially when you’ve got a secret you’re desperate to sing out about. This magical conclusion to Tim Federle’s beloved Nate series is a love letter to theater kids young and not-so-young—and for anyone who ever wondered if they could truly go home again. Especially when doing so means facing everything you thought you’d left behind. An exceptional swan song for a beloved character. ― Kirkus Reviews, STARRED REVIEW If you know the difference between a cast album and a soundtrack, this is the book for you! ― Booklist Online Tim Federle is the showrunner and executive producer of High School Musical: the Musical: the Series , which he created for Disney+. His novels include the New York Times Notable Book Better Nate Than Ever and its Lambda Literature Award–winning sequel—which Lin-Manuel Miranda called “a wonderful evocation of what it’s like to be a theater kid” ( New York Times ). A film adaptation of Nate , written and directed by Federle, will premiere on Disney+ in spring 2022. The film stars Aria Brooks, Joshua Bassett, Lisa Kudrow, and Rueby Wood as Nate. Tim’s hit series of cocktail recipe books, including Tequila Mockingbird , have sold over half a million copies worldwide. He cowrote the Broadway musical adaptation of Tuck Everlasting and won the Humanitas Prize for cowriting the Golden Globe and Academy Award–nominated Best Animated Feature Ferdinand , starring John Cena and Kate McKinnon. A former Broadway dancer, Tim was born in San Francisco, grew up in Pittsburgh, and now divides his time between Los Angeles and the internet. Nate Expectations Not Bitter!! So . . . some breaking news. The show didn’t get a single Tony Award nomination. I suppose I should get that out now, in case you think the rest of this is gonna be the enlightened thoughts of a famous person. Just don’t want to disappoint you. E.T.: The Musical did get an Outer Critics Circle Award nomination. For costumes. (Yay.) But, look, if you saw the way the rubber E.T. suit glistens in the spotlight, and how the audience oohs and aahs over the whole cast in alien garb for the curtain call (we tap dance!), you’d nominate us for costumes, too. Correction. Unless you’re a Tony Awards nominator. In which case, you’d think we’d opened several seasons ago. Or never opened at all! Not bitter. “Well, this is awkward,” one of my dressing roommates says. We’re five floors up, backstage at the Shubert Theater, and nobody’s making eye contact. The nominations came out this morning. (Well, other shows’ nominations did. Not us!) “Agreed,” I manage to kind of say. I’m actually surprised how emotionally it comes out—I thought I’d gotten all my tears out back at Aunt Heidi’s place, in Queens. She handed me a square of toilet paper (she says Kleenex is a waste) and murmured something about how “crying in Queens is redundant.” Adults like to talk in poetry, did you know that? Knock-knock. The “nice” stage manager (Lori, not Ashlee, who hates kids) is at our dressing-room door. Stage managers are like teachers who wear all black, as if they’re at a funeral where you’re expected to carry a clipboard and hound people about not eating chocolate while in costume. “Hey guys,” Lori says, “just . . . checkin’ in.” Hoo, boy. This particular stage manager never “just checks in,” unless something bad is in the air. (Sometimes literally—recently one of my dressing roommates heated up broccoli in the company microwave and didn’t put a lid on the Tupperware.) “Are we in trouble?” I ask, and Lori makes one of those faces you make when you’re watching a YouTube of a very old dog trying to hop up on a sofa. “Of course not,” she says. Oh, boy. It really is bad. Any