Shul A. T. M

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“Baz . . . ,” Snow says. He’s picked up the book and is holding it out to me. I take it. “I need to tell you something,” he says. “What?” Since when do Snow and I have anything to tell each other? “I need to talk to you.” I raise my chin. “Talk, then.” “Not here.” He sheathes his blade. “We’re not supposed to be here, and . . . what I have to tell you is sort of private.” For a moment—not even a moment, a split second—I imagine him saying, “The truth is, I’m desperately attracted to you.” And then I imagine myself spitting in his face. And then I imagine licking it off his cheek and kissing ...more
Carry On: The Rise and Fall of Simon Snow
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