Fallon
I go back to his place not out of guilt or lack of anything better, but because I want to. It feels right at his place; it always has. If I could have it my way, I’d stay here until things get better. Maybe I’d stay here forever. But it’s not just me I have to think about. It’s Lacey, too.
I explore a little with the hours I have to kill. I don’t open any of his journals, not wanting to invade his privacy, but look through his bookshelves and movie collection, marveling at how similar his tastes are to my own. I wish we could talk more about things like that—be more normal together. I wonder if we ever will.
Exhausted and impatient, I finally pop a copy of Good Will Hunting into the DVD player, curl up on his bed, and begin to watch it. I’ve seen it dozens of times, of course,
