"The roses are dead,
The violets are too,
Don't mention romance,
You'll make me spew."
Francesca Burton knows all there is to know about love and romance. She knows that love is for the naïve and romance is for the delusional. Her parents taught her...
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When we pull up at the Riordans', Trav is sitting by himself on the front step.
Despite my rush to get here, I drag my feet as Amy's taillights disappear up the street. There's a very good chance that this boy is mad and disappointed in me. Even if he isn't, I have not a single clue how to support someone who is about to lose their parent.
I take one look at his pale, shattered face and none of that matters.
He's my friend and I could love him and he needs me. Sometimes things are just that simple.
I sit on the step beside him and hold him while he cries.
