All That's Left in the World (All That's Left in the World, #1)

by Erik J. Brown

That was when everyone kept saying, “It’s just a summer flu! People die from the flu all the time!” Apparently, Jamison’s mom knew something was up. At the end of one entry on June 29, underlined in her barely legible handwriting, it says: 107 dead in one day!

“My sister?” He nods. Most people would leave it, afraid they’d drag out an awkward, uncomfortable conversation. Not him—he asks me point-blank. I’m happy to say her name. “Elizabeth.”

There’s a massive difference between thinking about things and doing them. What happens if I’m wrong and it’s just friendship and loneliness and horniness all mixed up? And then we try something and it’s awkward and weird and I suck, and then I’ve ruined the only relationship I have left.

Shouldn’t the guy who killed thousands of gay people through inaction have gotten something a little more ostentatious from his right-wing fluffers?

Funny how little things can feel so big when you haven’t done them in a while.