Magnolia Parks (The Magnolia Parks Universe, #1)

by Jessa Hastings

“Who’s Tom England?” Sullivan frowns. “He was to my generation what BJ is to yours,” I tell her sagely. “And you’re with them both?” Her frown deepens.

GOT EM

“That doesn’t mean it’s because of me.” “Oh, sod off.” Gus rolls his eyes. “All these boys are loopy because of you.” I frown. “That’s not a compliment.” He raises his eyebrows and glances up at me. “I didn’t mean it as one.”

Omg

Tom looks up from the couch. “Are you crying?” he asks, standing. “Again?”

yeah

I want to fight with her, feel the closeness I feel when we do—when we say things we shouldn’t and go too far and the other night when she shoved my face away it broke me and made me fly at the same time, because she can only hate me how she hates me because she loves me how she loves me.

YIKES

I give him a look. “She likes Tom.” “Yeah, I wonder why, man? You’re palming cereal into your mouth at three p.m. on a Tuesday, he’s probably flying her to Barcelona as we speak—” “I have a plane.” I rub my tired eyes as I glare over at him. “You have a plane. So does she. It’s not that special, we all have planes.”

The problem with me and Parks is, I think we love each other more than ourselves.

I actually think that isn't even remotely the root of their troubles

“She’s put you through the ringer,” Tom tells me. I consider this, frown a bit as I do. “I dunno—I can never tell if we’re dancing in a burning room or taking turns dragging the other unconscious up a mountain.” Tom sniffs a laugh, looks at me like I’m crazy. “Both pretty shit to be honest, man—” “Yeah,” I concede as I stare over at her. “One ends with a pretty good view though—” Tom watches me more closely than I want him to. He’s got an intense stare. I think it’s worse because his eyes are so blue. Sounds dreamy, but I don’t know—aggressively blue, you could say? He’s just watching me, nearly frowning but not at me. “You two are something else.” He shakes his head. “It’s weird.”

someone had to say it!

“It’s actually wild, isn’t it,” Bridget considers. “Your capacity for male-driven drama.” I give her a look.

I start to wonder how many people in your lifetime do you get to love how I love her? Can’t be that many.

may a love like theirs NEVER find me

If BJ’s water to me, Tom is wine. I don’t need him to survive, but I love him anyway; he tastes good, makes me feel better, makes me feel braver.

that sounds...better