“I thrust the picture at his chest. He takes it and squints at it in the softening light. Then his eyes widen. "Holy shit," he breathes. "Is this the girl that ate you?""Ha, no. You're funny." I snatch my picture back. "So I was super fat. It's my father's fault. He never hugged me.""So, what, you ate him?”

“He is quiet for a minute, then turns his head to look at me. "Where were you when I was twelve?""Well, I was nine." I cut my eyes over to him. "And probably locked in the back of a Ho-Ho truck, eating my way to freedom. Yeah, that really happened.”

“We stand there, knee deep in the water, holding hands. The silence is thunderous with words we don't speak. I feel his presence beside me like it's an extension of my own body, tall and strong and so, so beautiful. But I can't look at him. Right now, it hurts too damn much.”

“Then what are you doing here, Luce?" he asked, his voice elevating. "You want time? You want space? Fine. I gave that to you. But then you keep throwing yourself back into my life whenever the hell you choose. No warning. No apology, No permanence. You show up at my front door and sneak out the back without so much as a goodbye," he continued, never taking his eyes off of me. "You couldn't take the up and down. The roller coaster was going to kill you. You know what I can't take? You in and back out of my life before I even knew you were there in the first place. You looking at me the way you are now and then able to turn your back and walk away five minutes later." His hands clenched over my cheek before he lowered it. "That is what will kill me. I can't live wondering if you're still mine to claim.”

“When I knew what I had to do / I took all my notebooks, all my manuscripts / and ate them page by page / so I could take my words with me”

“Luce," he said at last, his voice soft. "what do you want me to do?" He paused, waiting for my response, but I wasn't sure what he was asking, so no response came. "Please, just tell me," he continued. "Tell me what you want me to say, and do, when it comes to Adriana or any other girl that looks my way, and I'll do it. You want me to fire a spit wad between their eyes? So be it. You want me to flip them off any time any one of them looks my way? You got it. You want me to poke my eyes out so I can't see another one of their suggestive smiles again?" he trailed on, half of his face squishing together. "Well, that would suck, but I'd do it. For you." Cradling my face in his hands again, he leaned forward so his eyes were staring into mine from half a foot away. "Just tell me, baby. What do you want me to do?”

“He said I was a dirty boy,’ whispered Lockie. ‘I was a dirty boy and that was why he did stuff to me, because I was dirty. It was my fault.’‘Bullshit!’ Tina shouted and half the locker room turned around. Tina grabbed Lockie’s hand and they didn’t stop moving until they were out on the street. The cold was a shock after the warmth of the gym but she kept him walking fast until they got back home.‘It wasn’t your fault, Lockie. It’s never the kid’s fault. The uniform was an evil piece of shit and nothing he said to you was true.’‘It was my fault—it was,’ whined Lockie.‘Why? Why was it your fault?’‘I was supposed to stand by the stroller. I was supposed to hold on and not move while Mum got the prize. Dad had to carry the cake. I was supposed to stand by the stroller and not move. It was my fault.’Lockie’s tears burst like a dam. His small shoulders heaved and his sleeve became a tissue.Tina leaned down and grabbed him by the shoulders. ‘Look at me, Lockie.’He did as he was told.‘This wasn’t your fault. Kids do stuff like that all the time. I have no idea what you’re talking about but I can tell you that my little brother wandered off every chance he got. It wasn’t your fault, Lockie; you were just being a kid.”