BooksBarbecue
Back Little Universes Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Part 1
  6. Mae
  7. Hannah
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. Part 2
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. Part 3
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. Epilogue
  59. Mental Health Resources
  60. Acknowledgments
  61. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
  62. About the Author
  63. Newsletter Sign-up

I burrow closer to him. “You know what’s strange? If the wave hadn’t happened … maybe I would never have met you.”

He runs a hand over my head. “I don’t think anything happens for a reason. The wave being the price we pay in exchange for this. I think a part of me would have found a way to collide with you, Mae, no matter what. Even if I had to take a quantum leap to make it happen. I’d have found you.”

Because I’m his definite position in the universe. And he’s mine.

I kiss him. I kiss him with all the kisses I haven’t given him for over four months.

Then I pull back, stare at him. “You bastard.”

I can’t keep a straight face, so he just raises his eyebrows.

“When were you going to tell me that this room is a wormhole?” I try to sound extremely angry.

A minute out there—a whole night in here.

Ben grins, jumps off the bed, and bolts the door, then crawls back across the mattress toward me.

“You’re the astronaut,” he says. “Shouldn’t you have seen that one coming?”

I rest a hand on the buttons of his shirt. “You’re right. Maybe I should correct my course.”

“I think we’re finally on the optimal flight path,” Ben says softly, laying me down. “Don’t you?”

Only love.

So many ways to die. But so many ways to live. Maybe even forever. Quintessence. Always being. Never ending.

I nod. “Second star to the right and straight on till morning.”

Benediction

maybe the empty places inside us
are just homes waiting to be filled

Table

Basement

Holy Cross Church

42

Hannah

If addiction is genetic, I don’t know where I got it from.

Everyone in my family seems fine. Okay, on Dad’s side, maybe Gram likes her after-dinner port a little too much, but she’s a grown-ass seventy-five-year-old woman who’s earned it. Mom’s side might be the link: I’m pretty sure Pappoús was an alcoholic—no one says it that way, but he always had a shit-ton of ouzo on hand. Still, no one ever became an outright junkie. Went to rehab. Overdosed.

If Nate would just smoke a little too much weed or Uncle Tony hit the red wine harder. But no.

It’s just me who’s a loser. Jo would want me to reframe that, but that affirmation shit is just not working today.