121
" So how did you think about him?” Rachel asks.
Hallelujah shrugs. “We were friends. Good friends. He knew—knows—a lot about me. I guess I know a lot about him. Stuff he likes and doesn’t like.”
Rachel looks skeptical. “And yet you never knew he liked you.”
“No! I mean—when Jonah and I were friends, I liked Luke. So maybe I missed some signs.”
“So you just . . . hung out? Platonically?”
“Yeah. I guess.” Hallelujah thinks about how to explain it. How to distill a friendship down to its most basic components. “We had choir together last year. We talked. For kind of the first time, even though we’d been in church and school together since fourth grade.”
“And, what, you found out you had so much in common?”
“Actually, no. But we started comparing music we liked, and a month into ninth grade, Jonah made me this mix of songs. Based on what we’d talked about. So then I made him a mix. And it grew from there. We’d go to each other’s houses, watch movies, listen to music, that kind of thing. Hanging out.”
“So tell me about Jonah. Something only you know.”
“Um. He’d probably deny it, but he got really into the Harry Potter books. Like, really into them. I loaned him my box set last spring. He got so mad at me for not warning him how Book Six ends.”
Rachel laughs. “He didn’t see the movies?”
“No. But I told him we couldn’t watch them until he’d finished the books. "
― Kathryn Holmes
128
" Then, slowly, my feet settled to the ground. Before I had taken six steps I sagged like a sail when the wind fades. As I walked back through the town, past sleeping houses and dark inns, my mood swung from elation to doubt in the space of three brief breaths.
I had ruined everything. All the things I had said, things that seemed so clever at the time, were in fact the worst things a fool could say. Even now she was inside, breathing a sigh of relief to finally be rid of me.
But she had smiled. Had laughed.
She hadn't remembered our first meeting on the road from Tarbean. I couldn't have made that much of an impression on her.
'Steal me,' she had said.
I should have been bolder and kissed her at the end. I should have been more cautious. I had talked too much. I had said too little. "
― Patrick Rothfuss , The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #1)
135
" Look, my son, she is so beautiful, she has fair skin and green eyes and brown hair.''She's English?' I asked cheekily, holding the cheap photo print with trepidation. Which unfortunate victim had they found for me to marry in what backwater, unbeknownst that my heart was not for trading? Honour would quote Shakespeare to make a point; for me, it was always Rumi.'La hawla wala kuwwat... May God protect us from such misfortune... you think I have lost my senses that I would marry you to a white girl?' My mum used the word gori as an insult and yet when she talked about Billo she said 'Look how gori she is.'Oh, Mum, the irony.'Well, you seem pretty obsessed with green eyes and skin colour,' I mumbled.'She is gorgeous.' Mum went on ignoring me. 'Think how beautiful your children, my grandchildren, will be? They will have cats' eyes, just like Billo.'Honour has fair skin and green eyes too, and just think how beautiful your grandchildren will be if they're mixed race, I thought.I didn't say that to my mum, obviously. "
136
" I tried to put myself in his place, and realized we looked exactly like what we were: a family. These strangely tied together individuals trying desperately to keep both ourselves and one another happy. Succeeding, and failing, and succeeding. When Jeremy called me up to light one of the thirteen candles on the cake, he said the kindest things, and I knew he meant each and every one. He talked about me teaching him how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to kick an arcade game in just the right place to get a free play. He was remembering the best of me. The way he spoke, I almost recognized who he was talking about. "
― David Levithan , How They Met, and Other Stories
139
" What is…” She flipped through a few pages, looked up into his eyes. “Is this…?” “My journal,” he said, reaching out to glide a knuckle down her cheek. Her skin was so damn soft. She was a contradiction in terms to him, and one that he found endlessly fascinating: a woman with the inner strength to rival any Spec Ops member he’d ever known, yet she had such a kind, soft heart beneath that hard-won armor. Resilient. Independent yet willing to compromise. Formidable in her confidence and strength of will, yet gentle and loving. He loved her so hard it hurt. “I bought it the night after you stayed at my place,” he continued. “I knew if I was going to have a real shot with you going forward then I needed to get my shit together once and for all. You said the writing thing really helped you so I called my counselor and talked to her about it. She thought it would be good for me too. So I wrote in it every day since. I’ve been working hard at it.” Taya leafed through the pages until she came to the end and looked back up into his eyes. “It’s full.” “Yeah. Guess I had a lot to say.” The tenderness in her eyes slayed him. “Nathan, I’m so proud of you.” Her pride in him made him feel twenty feet tall. He let out a relieved breath. “I want to read it to you. That’s my next step, if you’re okay with it.” “Of course it’s okay. I’d love for you to read it to me, as long as you feel comfortable doing it.” “That’s the thing, I am. And I wouldn’t be with anyone else except you. You make me feel…whole.” He didn’t know how else to say it, how else to explain himself, except he needed her to know he was trying like hell to deal with his issues. “I know I’ve got a long way to go before I get to the same place you’re at, but I’m willing to put in the work to get there. I feel safe with you and I’m ready to move forward, let go of all the stuff that happened before. Like you said, I’m doing it for me. I’m sick of my past having any kind of hold over me. So I’m going to do whatever it takes to make peace with it.” Her answering smile lit up her whole face, made her gray eyes sparkle like gems. “Then I’ll gladly listen to whatever you want to say.” Warmth kindled in his chest. She did that; warmed him from the inside out, just by being her. “Good, because I love you.” She froze, her eyes widening slightly. He nodded, laughed at her shocked expression. “Yep, I love you. That’s what I came here to say. I love you and I’m a better man because of it, but not as good a man as I’ll be down the road if you stand by me.” Her eyes filled with tears and she flung her arms around him. “I love you too,” she blurted out against his neck. “So, so much. And of course I’ll stand by you.” Nate felt like his heart might burst. He hugged her hard. “Would you move to Virginia with me? When your dad’s strong enough. I know you need to be here for a while longer, but after that, I want you in my bed every night so I can wake up beside you each morning.” She gave a soggy laugh, her face still buried in his neck. “There you go again with the romance.” “Oh, baby, have I got plans for you.” He stroked a hand over her back, fascinated by the combination of softness and strength that was uniquely her. Then his stomach rumbled, making her smile. He was starving, hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any bacon in the house, would you? Because I’d kill for a BLT right now. "