I read Book #20 slowly.
I didn't want finish it, I was sure it would have a sad ending (WHY DO YOU KEEP SENDING ME SAD ENDINGS??) and I wanted to stay in the bubble of the story, in the before, in the innocence.
I take the book with me, to keep me company, to the place I hate going and didn't want to be at.
It was crowded (what's the opposite of "bonus"?) and the guy next to me seemed to have a nose growing out of his nose and it took everything I had to not look and not seem like I was not looking while trying to sneak a peak.
With 10 pages left I find myself not wanting to turn pages, praying for my name to be called so I would still have a bit of this book left, a perfect serving, like a hershey kiss.
They don't call my name.
The call her, and him, and the guy whose been standing awkwardly even though there are chairs open and that makes me think something is wrong with his ass and he can't sit.
They haven't called the people who belong to the kid that keeps banging that thing that should NOT be in this room much less banged on. They also don't call the person I can't see whose phone won't stop chiming saccharine notification dings.
To my right is a lady with a gorgeous purse (I'm thinking Chanel, but I was distracted) who keeps looking over at me and then away and kicking her leg and looking around.
I wonder if she recognizes my book and wants to ask something. I wonder if she's read it?
I posted a piece of this book's cover online and people who recognized it knew it RIGHT away.
This book is a love story, but more. It is a growing up story, but more. It is more, and it is the kind of love story that has two women on the cover and I think the woman next to me was looking at that and trying NOT to, but that's OK because I was very busy watching her not watch me, and also still trying to not see the guy next to me.
They call her name and as she gets up I whisper "Good luck!" and she laughs so hard she coughs and almost trips. Awesome.
I go back to my book, trying to not finish it, not finish it, not finish, but I can't help myself the pages keep turning.
Someone calls my name.
have one page left. I'm tempted to tell her to wait to hang on please not NOW but I hate this place so I hug the book with me and soldier on.
I could've read the book afterwards, right away.
I could've read the book in the car, on the side of the road, in the garage, whatever.
But I didn't want to finish it so I did awesome things like Algebra homework and making spaghetti.
Hours pass, the kitchen is clean, homework is done, a moment of silence finds me. I'm ready to see how horribly tragic this books ends.
And THANK YOU HOORAY FOR THE UNIVERSE it doesn't end with death or cancer and ostracism or rape or finding out something that unravelled everything. It ends very neatly, very well.
There isn't a fairy tale ending, but a good one, a real one about courage, friendship, freedom and the price of keeping secrets.
I wish I'd read this book sooner, I wish I'd even known it exists.
If you like Nicholas Sparks (but less sad, and less "men" in the story) and you like stories where real people make hard choices, you'll love this book.
I didn't want finish it, I was sure it would have a sad ending (WHY DO YOU KEEP SENDING ME SAD ENDINGS??) and I wanted to stay in the bubble of the story, in the before, in the innocence.
I take the book with me, to keep me company, to the place I hate going and didn't want to be at.
It was crowded (what's the opposite of "bonus"?) and the guy next to me seemed to have a nose growing out of his nose and it took everything I had to not look and not seem like I was not looking while trying to sneak a peak.
With 10 pages left I find myself not wanting to turn pages, praying for my name to be called so I would still have a bit of this book left, a perfect serving, like a hershey kiss.
They don't call my name.
The call her, and him, and the guy whose been standing awkwardly even though there are chairs open and that makes me think something is wrong with his ass and he can't sit.
They haven't called the people who belong to the kid that keeps banging that thing that should NOT be in this room much less banged on. They also don't call the person I can't see whose phone won't stop chiming saccharine notification dings.
To my right is a lady with a gorgeous purse (I'm thinking Chanel, but I was distracted) who keeps looking over at me and then away and kicking her leg and looking around.
I wonder if she recognizes my book and wants to ask something. I wonder if she's read it?
I posted a piece of this book's cover online and people who recognized it knew it RIGHT away.
This book is a love story, but more. It is a growing up story, but more. It is more, and it is the kind of love story that has two women on the cover and I think the woman next to me was looking at that and trying NOT to, but that's OK because I was very busy watching her not watch me, and also still trying to not see the guy next to me.
They call her name and as she gets up I whisper "Good luck!" and she laughs so hard she coughs and almost trips. Awesome.
I go back to my book, trying to not finish it, not finish it, not finish, but I can't help myself the pages keep turning.
Someone calls my name.
have one page left. I'm tempted to tell her to wait to hang on please not NOW but I hate this place so I hug the book with me and soldier on.
I could've read the book afterwards, right away.
I could've read the book in the car, on the side of the road, in the garage, whatever.
But I didn't want to finish it so I did awesome things like Algebra homework and making spaghetti.
Hours pass, the kitchen is clean, homework is done, a moment of silence finds me. I'm ready to see how horribly tragic this books ends.
And THANK YOU HOORAY FOR THE UNIVERSE it doesn't end with death or cancer and ostracism or rape or finding out something that unravelled everything. It ends very neatly, very well.
There isn't a fairy tale ending, but a good one, a real one about courage, friendship, freedom and the price of keeping secrets.
I wish I'd read this book sooner, I wish I'd even known it exists.
If you like Nicholas Sparks (but less sad, and less "men" in the story) and you like stories where real people make hard choices, you'll love this book.
