More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
She’ll be real pretty, don’t you think?” “Yeah, I bet she will be.” “I’m going to take good care of her. I’ll be the best big brother ever,” he says, bobbing his head with a prideful smile. It’s the same smile Dad has when he stares at the lawn after a fresh mow. “I’ll be like Mario, and you can be Luigi if you want. She’ll be Princess Peach, and we’ll protect her from all the bad guys in the world.”
I always wanted something worth defending, and Mom won’t let me have a puppy. Theo’s new baby will have to do.
I want a baby sister. In fact, I’d trade anything in the world for a baby sister. You hear that, sky? I’ll trade anything for a baby sister!
“June always feels like a new beginning.”
“Her name is June.” June. June always feels like a new beginning.
Is she my wish? Is she what I traded my parents for?
Tiny fingers clamp around my pinkie, stealing my next breath. She clings so tightly—as if she needs me for something, as if I’m important, and that causes my belly to flutter. My chest tickles, too. I like the feeling: being needed, wanted. Claimed. I feel claimed. And after losing everything I love, it feels really good to belong to someone.
“I’m here now,” I say out loud. “I’m home.” I wonder if Mom and Dad are flying high over the rainbow, waiting for me. Maybe they couldn’t find me because I wasn’t here. They didn’t know where to look. I’m here now, my mind echoes, over and over again. Maybe they will finally come back for me. Maybe they’ll fly home.
“I’ll sing it to you from now on. I’ll sing it every night until you grow too old for lullabies.”
Somewhere, over the rainbow, Junebugs fly…
“You just need to be brave that first time, then all the other times come easy.” I guess I was the one with the sage advice; she’s just using it against me.
June smiles even wider as she leans in to me, then whispers against my ear, “I wished for your mom to come back.” My heart stalls. A rush of air leaves me.
I could never love anyone more than I love you.”
“Brant? If that wish won’t come true, can I wish for something else?” “Sure.” “Okay…I wish that we can be together forever.” “Forever, huh?” She nods, picking at one of Aggie’s worn ears. “Forever and ever. That one will come true, right?” I hope so, Junebug. And sometimes, hope is all we have.
That’s always how it’s been, though. When she calls me, I’m there. If she needs me, I’m hers.
“I’d never leave you. I love you.” “How much?” I’m not sure why I ask it, but I do. “To the moon and back.” Brant pauses, his brow furrowing. “No, that’s not enough. How about…over the rainbow and back again,”
“I think you broke the law, Officer,” he sneers. “And here I was, trying to break your face.”
“I can only love you. There’s no other way.”
He turned the only girl I’ve ever wanted into the only girl I can never have. But I still love her.
“Seriously,” he says. “Fuck a lot of things, but fuck mushrooms the most.”
“Where are you, huh? You said you’d always protect me. Where. Are. You?”
“She kept her promise.”
“She gave you to us, Brant.” Her own tears get the better of her, and she chokes out, “She gave you to me.”
A sound falls out of me that I can’t take back. A choking, painful sound. And if she’d listened close enough, if she’d just strained her ear, she would have heard exactly what that sound said. I’m hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you, June Bailey.
He cherishes me as he ruins me.
“I–I knew it was a good day…to save someone,”
“You have to tell him…June…it’s okay.”
My heart
“Take care of Peach because…no one…” He’s fading. He’s dying. He’s fucking leaving me. “No one will ever love her…like we do.”
I’m still that same boy who loves you with everything he is, who wants to be your comfort and your courage, and who would use his dying breaths to sing you your favorite lullaby.
“I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but the thought of another man putting his hands on you makes me borderline murderous.”
“It’s not fair.” “What’s not fair?” “Your face.”
“You’ve never felt like my brother!”
I don’t care about being strong or brave or righteous. All I care about is loving her.
“I completely disagree,” I contest. “When you find the right person, there is no ‘right time.’ There’s only right now because that’s all we ever have.”
“It’s a good day to save someone, Peach.”
“Anger is nothing but misplaced passion.”
Passion is meaning. Passion is purpose. And tragedy is simply the risk we take in order to experience it.
“Don’t worry, Peach… I’ll save you.”
“There’s nothing left to say, Junebug. This is the way it needs to be, and anything else is just going to sound like…stay.”
all I want to do is whisper pretty lies into your ear, telling you we’re going to be okay. I can’t be around you without touching you, and I can’t touch you without wanting to keep you.”
“I’m trying to be strong because I know this is what’s best for you,” he confesses, his voice cracking on every word. “But I’m not built for this, June. I’m not built for a life without you.”
“You’re still Brant…and I’m still June.”
“I’ll always protect you.” I watch him carefully as a beat passes. As he absorbs my words. His kissed lips part with a sharp inhale. “Now…cover your ears,” I tell him gently.
“I don’t want to leave,” I begin, placing my own hands over his, keeping my voice low. Tears pour down my face like a fractured dam. “I want to stay and build a life with you—a beautiful life I know we deserve. I want to marry you, Brant Elliott, and I want to make love to you every night beneath rainbows and stars. I want to have children with you. I want to raise them strong and brave, just like their father, and I want to sing them lullabies by the light of the moon.”
I don’t want to hear my chest caving in, because there’s no sound more painful than a breaking heart. So I cover my ears. I cover my ears and let myself break.
A tragedy occurred, that much I know. I just don’t know if the tragedy was in her leaving me… …or loving me.
when she got home, she researched the meaning behind the name, just out of curiosity. Do you know what it means?” I shake my head. I never bothered to look it up. “Sword,” she tells me. “Brant means ‘sword.’ Brave, gallant, a stalwart defender.”
