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377 pages, Hardcover
First published May 14, 2019
The whole time the band played I kept sneaking looks at you, Jo, and thinking: How could I be unhappy? I mean how could anybody be unhappy? And also: How is anybody supposed to hide happiness like this?
A word kept flashing in my head. One word, over and over, like a flashing neon sign. Lucky. I don’t know how to describe it, Jo. Lucky lucky lucky. My whole body wanted to crawl inside your whole body, just to share all this luckiness with you.
“There’s an entire universe that we’ve created from scratch, just you and me. And I mean I would like to live here full-time. But the outside world doesn’t match up to the inside one, so I keep feeling like you and I are a dream.”
���I mean weird kids do have this aura to them. It’s like a smell almost. They’re stuck somewhere in their heads, in some kind of a bubble. People can’t really help themselves: They see a bubble, they want to pop it.”
“Maybe it is always like this. We are granted these tiny windows of time, these small pockets of space, where nothing else intrudes. Maybe that’s all we can ever hope to get, together. And maybe, just maybe, it will be enough.”
“And then I’ll read one of your letters and think, People have no idea what I’m like. I mean the gap between what people see and what’s actually in my head sort of shocks me when I read your letters. I guess everyone has this gap. It’s just that they don’t come face-to-face with it very often.”
“The US Postal Service is abuzz with the missives of sad, solitary, estranged teenagers.”