“Daddy named me Billie Jo. He wanted a boy. Instead, he got a long legged girl with a wide mouth with cheekbones like bicycle handles. He got a redheaded, freckle faced, narrow-hipped girl with a fondness for apples and hunger for playing fierce piano.”

“You're amazing," she whispered hoarsely.He pushed back the hair from her face. "You too.""How? All I do is let you play me like a piano."He chuckled. "You've got a great keyboard.”

“We've got girls like that in Boston," he said. "Fake as her nails.”

“He moved toward her and cupped her face in his hands. "You are so beautiful that sometimes it hurts just to look at you. Your eyes are a thousand shades of brown and gold with hints of blue and green." He touched her cheekbones with thumbs. "Your freckles are like the girl-next-door fantasy brought to life. Your mouth is sexy and soft and when you smile, the world seems like a better place. Swear you'll never change anything. Swear it.”

“Shhh,” He growled into my mouth. “I got you, I fuckin’ got you. Just let it go baby girl, just fuckin’ let it go.”

“Did you see the look on that guy's face when he hit the ground? He was all like "Come here, defenceless little girl,' and then you were like 'BAM! Take that, suck-face! I've got superpowers!”