I Loved You in Another Life by David Arnold EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:David Arnold
- Language: English
- Genre:Teen & Young Adult Music Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
EVAN
a bird in a tree at night
MY LITTLE BROTHER PREFERS CORNERS. He likes sitting quietly in them, and
I just wish people understood that sitting quietly in a corner is not universal
code for I am sad, I am lonely, please save me. All it means for sure is that
the quiet kid in the corner would like to sit quietly in the corner, and can we
not ascribe our own sets of values to quiet kids in corners the world over?
It’s not like it costs us anything. It’s not like we were using that corner to
begin with. And look, I’m sure there are some quiet kids in some corners
who are sad and lonely and need saving. All I’m saying is, let’s not assume
they all are. Silence and sadness are not the same things. And I wish more
people understood that, is all.
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“Okay,” says Ali, and she holds back my hair so I don’t get vomit in it,
and even though I can’t see her, I know she has that look in her eyes, the
soft one, the one she saves for when she wants me to know I am seen. And
so I ramble about quiet kids, and she knows I’m talking about my brother,
Will. She knows this because she sees me.
“You won’t love me after this,” I say.
“Eh.”
“There’s no way you love me after this.”
“I mean, it’s mostly you who loves me, anyway.”
I laugh between heaves and feel the sudden urge to plant character flags.
“This doesn’t mean anything, you know.”
“I know,” says Ali.
“I’m a responsible adult, basically.”
She says, “Just breathe, Evan,” and I wonder if she was in the basement
back at the party when Heather said that thing about all the important stuff
in life being easy. Like how our bodies breathe on their own, even when we
sleep, and how our hearts keep beating no matter what, and that’s when I
had to leave the party. Were you there, Ali? Do you know why I had to
leave the party? I left because the heart is a muscle. I left because of what
happens to muscles that don’t get used over long periods of time, and even
though that basement was packed with people, all I could hear were mottled
voices, all I could feel were cruel hands, all I could see were hungry eyes.
Do you understand, Ali? I left the party because of atrophy. And if I
think too hard about it now, I’m afraid I’ll stop breathing. If I think too hard
about it, I’m afraid my own heart will stop beating, and then whose heart
will glow to Will?
“Mine,” Ali says. “And anyway, that’s not why you left the party.”
“It’s not?”
“No. You left for the same reason you drank three and a half vodka
tonics. Which, for a constitution as delicate as yours, is roughly the
equivalent of injecting a shrew with enough sedative to fell a baby moose.”
Ali gathers a loose strand of my hair, gently tucks it into her fist behind my
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