More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
I didn’t want to kiss her. I wanted to zip open my skin and tuck her into me. Hide her from the world and keep her mine.
I always felt less-than, so I tried to be more.
There were two Knight Coles. One was mine. The other everyone else’s.
It wasn’t a secret I’d chop heads and bring down the sun for Luna Rexroth.
My mom had said there were a lot of lids for every pot. But there was only one lid for this pothead. Luna.
Make mistakes. Be free. Be bold. Treat teenage as a verb, Luna.
I was smitten with chicken wings and vintage Tumblr porn, not with Luna. With Luna, I was in fucking everything. Love. Lust. Obsession. Take your pick.
“What if I wasn’t decent?” she signed, grinning. “I was counting on it.” I ran my ringed tongue over my lower lip. “Sorry to disappoint.” “It’s never too late to rectify the situation.”
It was one of the things I loved about Knight the most. He was respectful and loving to his mother.
Michael Jackson’s eating popcorn GIF played in my head.
“Are you drunk?” I scrunched my nose. “No,” he shot automatically. “You seem drunk.” “What makes you say that?” “When you’re drunk, you’re mean.”
“Oh my Marx, who claimed to be nice?” Daria stared at me, horrified. “What a mediocre goal to have in life.”
“I’ll make you some tea,” she said. “I hate tea.” “You’ll drink tea.” “Give me one good reason to.” “I’m asking you nicely.” I gave her a do-we-know-each-other? look. She rolled her eyes. “I’ll let you touch my boob.” “Nipple too. I don’t want any side-boob action. That doesn’t count.”
“If you think you’ve found something good without anything bad in it, it just means you haven’t examined it close enough.”
But also that I was done being the other woman. I wanted to be the only woman.
My mother—my real mother—is dying in the hospital, and the girl I love is on the other side of the continent, fucking some douchebag named FUCKING JOSH she thinks she fell in love with. And I’m putting up with this shit and keep chasing her ass because…because…because I can’t not have her in my life. Don’t you understand?”
I had to keep her in my life, even at the price of making said life unbearable. She could still have FUCKING JOSH. Fuck him. Love him. Build a shrine to him. And I’d still be here.
“What if tomorrow never comes?” I whispered. “Then, my darling boy, we’ll make the best of today.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing the tip of my nose, looking skittish all of a sudden—almost endearing. “For a perfect first time.”
“We’re everything.”
“She yelled at me.” I winced. “What did you do?” “Yelled back.” “Atta girl.”
“Yes!” I shouted. “Yes, I’d love to be Luna Cole!”
Maybe sometimes we make people monsters in our heads because we can’t understand them. Maybe we don’t understand them because we don’t try to. And maybe we don’t try to because we’re scared.
“It started with an abandoned toddler in a soiled diaper, but the plot twist was a boy with busted knuckles and a heart of gold…”
