a blood-drenched volleyball, I imagined

toward the provisions. Gus’s dimple deepened. His hand skimmed

when the world felt dark and scary, love could whisk you off to go dancing; laughter could take some of the pain away; beauty could punch holes in your fear.

I always liked that thought, the way two people really did seem to grow into one. Or at least two overlapping parts, trees with tangled roots.

My chest fluttered like there was a box fan blowing glitter around in it,

“Falling’s the part that takes your breath away. It’s the part when you can’t believe the person standing in front of you both exists and happened to wander into your path. It’s supposed to make you feel lucky to be alive, exactly