Patch: “let’s Get Out Of Here.” –

Nora: What Are You Planning? Patch: I Wouldn't Call This Planning. I'd Call This Throwing A Hail Mary With Seconds Left On The Clock.

Inwardly, I Gouged My Eyes Out.

I Needed Him Like I'd Never Needed Anyone.

It’s Brown.” So Maybe I Had The Teeniest, Tiniest, Most Infinitesimal Amount Of Auburn In My Hair. I Was Still A Brunette. “it’s The Lighting,” I Said. “yeah, Maybe It’s The Lightbulbs.” His Smile Brought Up Both Sides Of His Mouth, And A Dimple Surfaced.

If I Lose You, I Lose Everything