More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Alexis Hall
Read between
July 13 - July 15, 2020
Thankfully, I’d emerged from the womb serving manic pixie dream queer.
I grew up in Scotland. Southerners knew nothing about cold.
“As five very wise young ladies once implied, zig-a-zig-ah is transitory. But friendship never ends.”
I stared at my feet…which were no help. Damn you, feet.
I spotted the dressing gown hanging from a hook on the back of the door. It was big and fluffy, and I sure as hell deserved some big and fluffy. Also it had a hood, which, as far as I was concerned, was just the right amount of extra when it came to sleepwear.
I should have fed you. I don’t usually have overnight guests, so I’m out of practice.” “You don’t?” She cast me a look of mingled exasperation and fondness. “Yes, yes, you’re a very special mushroom.
“Poppet”—her tone sharpened—“you’re in your early twenties, having emerged from your first significant relationship. It’s a little early to conclude you’re going to die alone.”
“There’s no milk,” she said. “Well, there’s something in the milk carton. But I wouldn’t recommend allowing it inside your body.”
Very few adventures begin with a no.”
At that moment, something touched my shoulder. Which I handled with great poise by screaming the place down until I realised it had only been a leaf.
Shit fuck wankery shit on a stick up your arse with bells on.
I hope there’s a special place in hell reserved for people who say “Tell me about yourself.” Maybe not right in Satan’s arsehole with the betrayers, but pretty damn near it. Satan’s taint? Just behind his balls, where it’d be all sweaty with hellfire.
“You’re talking to a queer boy, Ellery. I’ve always wanted to be a princess.”
Fuck knows what she was doing and probably I should have been worried, but worrying about Ellery was like worrying about water: Yes, it had the potential to cause a lot of carnage, but it was also just kind of there.
I snickered. Because you could always trust George with a bit of lit-themed shade.
“He dumped me.” “I dislike him already.” That made me laugh, if slightly guiltily.
“I just mean,” she went on awkwardly “you’ve got this. My brother’s a dick. And also a wreck. But if anyone can help him get his shit together, it’s you.”
“For the last fucking time,” I yelled, “nobody needs any fucking forgiveness. This stuff’s just sex. It doesn’t need to be diagnosed or explained or justified.”
I’m not here to fix you, but the way I see it, the things that happen to us shape who we are. And so when some of those things are terrible, or wrong, you have to wrap your head round the idea that accepting yourself isn’t the same as accepting what was done to you.”
You’re sure about this? About me? About us?” “Oh, my Arden,” he murmured. “It’s the one certainty I have right now.”
Scrambling upright, I hurled myself into Caspian’s lap, flinging my limbs around him with all the dignity of an overly devoted spider monkey.
“Love isn’t earned, Caspian. It’s given.”
And feelings are messy bastards—they’re not always what we’d like them to be, but that doesn’t mean we’re wrong to have them.”
“Yes, my Arden. We can have all of it.” Caspian was laughing and suddenly the whole room felt different. Warmer and brighter, its corners softer, its shadows less dense.