For Real (Spires, #3)

by Alexis Hall

“One of the few advantages of getting old is that you come to realise some things just aren’t worth worrying about. I’m gay. Submissive, if you want to call it that. Masochistic, in my way. Some people like clay pigeon shooting or Coronation Street. What the fuck does it matter?”

The worst thing about being old enough to know better was the realisation that you weren’t.

“Yes, first class isn’t so much about extravagance as not being completely miserable.”

“You can’t compare yourself to what other people are doing. Only you can know what’s right for you.”

Because once you’ve thought something like that, or said it, all you’ve done is given yourself something to fail at. Or have taken away.

“I just don’t fucking know, okay? I’ve never known. My entire life is just me pretending—not very well—that I have a clue what I’m doing. But I don’t. I just don’t. I don’t have . . . like . . . a dream or a goal, and I don’t know how to get one, or what’s wrong with me that I don’t.”

“You’re not a loser, Toby. You’re just lost. And it’s okay to be lost.”