Alma, The second time I saw you was the same night after Giovanni’s. You had swapped out your baggy T-shirt for a tight black tank top and showed up at the frat house with Quinn. You were ridiculously out of place, which I loved, and even more beautiful, which I hated. I adored that the party life wasn’t your style because as much as I was a slave to it, I hated it. Your innocence was refreshing and drew me in more. I wanted to scare you away. I wanted you to hate me. You were the light to my dark, the good to my evil, the pure to my tainted soul. You were everything that I wanted but nothing
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