Dustin Thao is taking fans back to Ellensburg, Wash. with the impending release of You've Found Oliver -- a companion novel to his NYT bestseller You've Reached Sam.
Arriving on Sept. 30, You’ve Found Oliver centers on Sam’s best friend Oliver, a fan-favorite character from the original novel.
Set one year after Sam’s death, Oliver finds himself sending text messages to his friend’s old number. He thinks that no one is reading them and is surprised to find out that Sam’s phone number has been reassigned to Ben, who has had access to the “vulnerable texts for months,” according to a synopsis.
Ben and Oliver quickly develop a bond, which leads to more serious feelings. However, “there’s something unexplainable keeping them apart.”
In an exclusive statement shared with PEOPLE, Thao explains the “unusual way” that he came up with the idea for You’ve Found Oliver.
“I was sitting in a restaurant, waiting for my friends to arrive. These friends happen to be fellow authors Alex Aster and Chloe Gong. Alex was running late and when she finally arrived, she couldn’t find our table. So I told her to meet me up front. But for some reason, I couldn’t find her either. As we texted each other, we described the exact same place. It was the strangest feeling,” he recalls.
“Two people standing at the same spot, talking over the phone, but unable to see each other. Turns out, there was a sister restaurant with the same name,” he continues. “But the feeling stayed with me when we finally sat for dinner. At the end of the night, I turned to Alex and Chloe and said, ‘I know what my next book is about.’ ”
After work, I hang in the library and start on my assignments. I have a few chapters to read for American History. I’m supposed to be taking notes, but the textbook is putting me into a coma. The only thing keeping me awake are texts from Ben. He finished his lab early today. Now he’s packing to go home to Bellevue for the weekend.
Ben: That’s the thing about living close to home. Parents expect me to visit all the time
Oliver: No need to tell me. My mom practically lives down the street
Oliver: We do Thursday night dinners. I’m not allowed to miss it
The question catches me by surprise. I’m not sure if he’s serious. We’ve only been talking for a few weeks.
Ben: Bellevue isn’t too far from you right? We could meet somewhere in the middle
Ben: If you’re not busy
I can’t believe he actually wants to see me. I was hoping we would meet eventually. But I wasn’t expecting it to be this soon.
Ben: I think it’s halfway between us. I actually know a great diner there. Best smash burgers in Washington
I look it up on my phone. It’s about an hour drive from Ellensburg.
Oliver: That’s not too far
Oliver: And love a smash burger. But I’ll have to judge that for myself
Ben: What about tomorrow?
This is happening so fast. I only have Professor Clarke’s class in the afternoon. I could hop on the bus afterwards. Ben texts me the name of the diner. I can’t believe we’re actually going to meet in person. The thought sends butterflies to my stomach. It’s impossible to focus on anything else. But I force myself to finish the rest of the chapter before leaving the library.
I drop my things off at the dorm before heading home for dinner. We’re having turkey meatloaf tonight. I help Mom bring in the groceries and start on the vegetables. I overcook the broccoli a little, but it’s still good. Mom saved some galaktoboureko from her shift at the restaurant yesterday. It’s this Greek dessert that’s made of custard and baked in filo dough. We put on another episode of her period drama and eat in the living room. As usual, she wraps up the leftovers for me to take back.
I can barely fall asleep that night, but morning comes before I know it. I shave my face thoroughly and spend some extra time on my hair.
I can barely pay attention in Professor Clarke’s class. She has us do another activity around The Poetics of Space. The quote on the board reads, “We are never real historians, but always near poets, and our emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of a poetry that was lost.” -- Gaston Bachelard. We spend the class drawing our interpretations of it with colored pencils. Professor Clarke walks the room and says, “When we think of a space, we think of our experiences in it. The rooms we walk though, the lives we live there. Are those memories not woven into the walls themselves? What happens to them after we leave?”
For some reason, this makes me think of the lake. The one Sam and I used to escape to all the time. I still find him there in some of my dreams. I remember the picture Sam drew of me, lying out in the grass, surrounded by flowers. For our activity, I try to recreate it with him instead.
The moment class ends, I race out the door, heading straight to the bus station. Ben sends a text to confirm the location. His parents are letting him borrow their car. I send him an ETA as soon as I step on the bus.
It’s an hour-and-a-half journey to North Bend. I take in the views of evergreen trees along the road. I’m a little nervous about meeting him. I steamed my favorite white T-shirt and threw on a jacket. I thought about going with a navy button-up, but I didn’t want to be overdressed.
I’m listening to the Velvet Underground album on the way there. Ben seems like a really big fan of them. It’s funny that he has that in common with Sam. He still sends me videos of some of their performances every now and then. I should probably be more familiar with their music, but I can only get through a few songs before switching to my pop playlist.
Eventually, the pale gray buildings of North Bend come into view. Somehow, this town seems even smaller than Ellensburg. The bus drops me off at the corner of 2nd Street, right next to the movie theater. The diner should be a short walk from here. The place feels like it’s stuck in the past, framed by a single mountainside that’s swathed in mist. I check the time. Then I cross the street and find the glowing sign of Twede’s Cafe. There’s something familiar about this place. Maybe it’s just the vibe that all diners share.
Ben should already be waiting inside. It’s a shorter trip for him, especially since he drove here. I pause at the entrance and take a breath to calm my nerves. Then I grab the door handle. For some reason, it’s locked. I try it again, but it doesn’t open. This must not be the right entrance. I walk around the building, but there doesn’t seem to be another way to get inside.
I glance through the window. The sunlight reflecting off the glass makes it hard to see. It doesn’t look like anyone’s in there. There’s a paint bucket on the floor by the cash register. Are they closed for renovation or something? Maybe I went to the wrong location. I check the address again. Then I send Ben a message.
Ben: That’s the right place. I’m sitting at table inside
A few minutes go by. Nobody opens the door. I send Ben another text.
There must be another entrance somewhere. I walk to the other side of the diner, but I still don’t see him anywhere. This has to be the wrong location.
Ben sends it, but it’s the same one. There must be some mistake.
I look out at the street signs. NORTH BEND WAY and BENDIGO. This is the right place. So why can’t we find each other?
Should I try the door one more time? I take another glance around me. There’s not a single car in the parking lot. And I haven’t seen anyone walk in or out yet. As I’m standing there, waiting for him to respond, a thought occurs to me . . .
Maybe Ben isn’t here at all. Is that why I can’t seem to find him? This is all some practical joke that’s being played on me. My heart sinks as I think back to these past few weeks. Does that mean everything he said is a lie?
I can’t believe I came all this way here just to walk in circles searching for someone who’s never coming now I have to wait for next bus home send him one last message.
Should have known better than to get my hopes up As I'm walking off he messages me back.
I stare at his message I really want this to be true I mean I've been looking forward to seeing him too My fingers hover over the screen thinking about what to text back Then decide to call him instead.
As the phone starts ringing static breaks through followed by a strange shift in air At first I think call was lost.
Someone is standing a few feet away wearing dark brown jacket and jeans His black hair is bathed in golden light I've only seen him in a few photos online But I know it's Ben staring right back at me.