“If he is anything other than a total gentleman, I’m going to gouge his eyes out.”“So you’re into it.”“Withholding judgment! When can I see you?”“Certainly not until you finish An Imperial Affliction.” I enjoyed being coy.“Then I’d better hang up and start reading.”“You’d better,” I said, and the line clicked dead without another word.Flirting was new to me, but I liked it.”

“Would you like me to drive so you can manage your social life?” I asked. It came out much snippier than I’d intended, but he was oblivious to mytone, still looking at his newest message.“No, no, I’m fine.”“We’d better not get in an accident because you’re busy sexting and driving,” I said. He burst out laughing”

“I can finish that off and get you something better,” he offered.“You’d eat my leftovers?...” I felt like such a prima donna. “You’re a king.”“I’m a…hungry…king,” he shrugged, as he unassumingly glanced to the side. “I’m not picky.”

“You see, unlike in the movies, there is no THE END sign flashing at the end of books. When I've read a book, I don't feel like I've finished anything. So I start a new one.”

“So I kept reading, just to stay alive. In fact, I'd read two or three books at the same time, so I wouldn't finish one without being in the middle of another -- anything to stop me from falling into the big, gaping void. You see, books fill the empty spaces. If I'm waiting for a bus, or am eating alone, I can always rely on a book to keep me company. Sometimes I think I like them even more than people. People will let you down in life. They'll disappoint you and hurt you and betray you. But not books. They're better than life.”

“Still perfect,” he said. “Read to me.”“This isn’t really a poem to read aloud when you are sitting next to your sleeping mother. It has, like, sodomy and angel dust in it,” I said.“You just named two of my favorite pastimes,” he said. “Okay, read me something else then?”“Um,” I said. “I don’t have anything else?”“That’s too bad. I am so in the mood for poetry. Do you have anything memorized?”“‘Let us go then, you and I,’” I started nervously, “‘When the evening is spread out against the sky / Like a patient etherized upon a table.’”“Slower,” he said.I felt bashful, like I had when I’d first told him of An Imperial Affliction. “Um, okay. Okay. ‘Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, / The muttering retreats / Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels / And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: / Streets that follow like a tedious argument / Of insidious intent / To lead you to an overwhelming question . . . / Oh, do not ask, “What is it?” / Let us go and make our visit.’”“I’m in love with you,” he said quietly.“Augustus,” I said.“I am,” he said. He was staring at me, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”“Augustus,” I said again, not knowing what else to say. It felt like everything was rising up in me, like I was drowning in this weirdly painful joy, but I couldn’t say it back. I”