out a cohesive thought if I tried. “I want you,” I said. “So if you still think this is all going to wrap up neat and tidy once your car is fixed, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Any of us.” She’d drawn in her lips, as if she was trying to suppress a smile. “I’m moving out of town, you know.” I nodded. “And my mother is awful. She doesn’t like any of you.” I nodded again, and the next few sentences spilled rapidly out of her. “I’ve really fucked up before, and I’ll probably fuck up again. And I don’t always know the right things to say, and sometimes
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