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Heat brews in my chest, and I’m on a rare edge that I usually meet when someone disses Philly or the Birds, or the occasion O’Malley insults me and my family. This edge, though, feels more fatal. More like I could push everyone off the cliff just to hold her hand.
He has this rare ability to make you feel like the greatest, most powerful version of yourself. Being around him amplifies all the pieces I love: the weird, unashamed, daring, happiest side of me. Being without him is just lonely.
Even if being someone’s girlfriend is terrifying, I’m more scared of never having the opportunity.
“I’m getting your doctor.” “Do that,” Donnelly tells her. “Go get my best friend, Becky.”
As long as she’s with me, I don’t really care which planet we’re on: hers or mine. I just still hope it can become ours.
