Mariana Zapata

“My schnecke. My little snail, do you know that’s what it means? It’s a term of affection in my country. My love. My snail. I don’t want to waste more time. I have nothing to hide and neither do you.”

You’re not ever going to be anyone else’s partner. Not while I’m alive, Meatball. I will drag your stubborn, beautiful ass kicking and screaming back to me because nobody else will ever be good enough for you

One day I would grow into my own person who didn’t care about doing the right thing.
One day when hell froze over.

If there was someone in the world who was my spirit animal, it was this kid.

Maybe the situation that brought us together sucked, but I loved them more than I’d ever loved anything doubled and tripled.

“I have fleas!” Louie hollered from the backseat.
“You don’t have fleas. You have lice,” I corrected him, crying a little on the inside at the reminder.
“I hate lice!”
“Lou, do you even know what lice do?” I asked.
Silence.

Absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder if there’s nothing there to begin with.

“I was so scared,” Josh admitted into my ear as Miss Pearl was loaded into the ambulance.
There was no way I could tell him I’d been just as scared as he had been.

he turned those hazel eyes on me once more and he blinked. But it wasn’t a normal blink. It was the kind of blink that changed your life. The kind of blink you noticed enough to earmark this moment in history. It was a preparation. A buffer. It was everything.

I did not like this man as more than a friend. A passing acquaintance. He was just a nice guy and it made perfect sense to admire someone with his type of loyalty.
I did not like him. I didn’t. And I sure as hell wasn’t falling in love with him a little. No way.