Lola & the Boy Next Door

“I know you aren’t perfect. But it’s a person’s imperfections that make them perfect for someone else.”

“Lola, do you remember when you told me that I had a gift?”
I gulp. “Yes.”
His eyes open and lock on mine. “You have one, too. And maybe some people think that wearing a costume means you’re trying to hide your real identity, but I think a costume is more truthful than regular clothing could ever be. It actually says something about the person wearing it. I knew that Lola, because she expressed her desires and wishes and dreams for the entire city to see. For me to see.”
My heart is beating in my ears, my lungs, my throat.
“I miss that Lola,” he says.

“So you believe in second chances?” I bite my lip.
“Second, third, fourth. Whatever it takes. However long it takes. If the person is right,” he adds.
“If the person is . . . Lola?”
This time, he holds my gaze. “Only if the other person is Cricket.”

Just because something isn’t practical doesn’t mean it’s not worth creating. Sometimes beauty and real-life magic are enough

Life isn’t about what you get, it’s about what you DO with what you get.”

“History books are filled with lies. Whoever wins the war tells the story.”

“Hello?”
No reply.
My shoulders sag. “What’s the point of a staircase if no one is here to watch my entrance?”

“I like being different.”
“And I like that about you,” Cricket says. “But I like the real you best.”

He’s always been a part of my life. Even when he was gone, some fragment of his spirit lingered behind. I felt it in the space between our windows.

Max places an arm around my shoulders. The gesture probably looks casual to Cricket, but Max’s muscles are strained. He’s jealous. The thought should make me happy, but I only see Cricket’s embarrassment. I wish I didn’t care what he thought.