She tells me our tip percentage is all about our mindset, even though people don’t tip well at brunch.
Melinda’s violation of their agreement—to stay the same for each other, forever—was so profound that she split their shared sphere in two.
My mind drifted to the almost-lycanthropic being I’d imagined her becoming, half wolf, half researcher, neither coming back to me, dead or alive.
Had we been diverse enough? Had we changed hearts, minds, and souls? Had we been . . . truthful?
It was during my third year of teaching the saints at Holy Trinity that the burning began.
If there were any justice in the world, I would have been born a wolf. Instead, I’m a seventh grader.
“Something in the hole grabs back. Something that doesn’t give up. Something with fingers and nails just like mine.”
Back then I genuinely believed that every next man was the last one.
Lori was in real, actual danger, but it was easy to convince herself she was not.