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What little light was left inside me flickered out.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Little
Flickered
Inside
Left
Light
Littles

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It will cost me a lot to send you with Scott wearing that dress but, just so you know: if you come with that dress slightly wrinkled,I will trace Scott, and when I find him, it's not gonna be pretty
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I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn't feel you missing from my life.
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Patch smiled. “You come by your red hair naturally?” I stared at him. “I don’t have red hair.” “I hate to break it to you, but it’s red. I could light it on fire and it wouldn’t turn any redder.
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Why is Anthony Amowitz using his pimp smile on you?” “You’re only calling him a pimp because he’s here. At Marcie’s.” “Yeah, so?” “He’s being nice.” I elbowed her. “Smile back.” “Being nice? He’s being horny.
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I’m not going anywhere near a motel with you.
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Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.
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Rollover minutes don’t work with curfews.
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I could get you to smile like that, and without sales tax.
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Hang on, did you just call me Angel? I asked. If I did? I don't like it. He grinned. It stays, Angel.
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But if I hadn't fallen, I wouldn't have met you.
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I didn’t accept your sacrifice. I turned it down.” I felt a small Oh form at my mouth, but it never quite made it past my lips. “Are you saying you gave up getting a human body for me?
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We need a ride. We're stranded. We still have two legs, leftie and rightie. Mine are in the mood for exercise. They feel like a nice long walk--ARE YOU CRAZY? she shrieked. I was standing with the tip of the beach umbrella aimed at the driver's-side window. What? I said. We have to get in.
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A feeling of violation swayed inside me, making me feel as if Id been shoved off a high platform without warning. I was falling, and I feared the sensation far more than hitting bottom. There was no end just a constantsense of gravity having its way with me.
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It isn't about love, Vee said. It's about fun.
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I'm not good, he said, piercing me with eyes that absorbed all light but reflected none, but I was worse.
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There's nothing special about losing your virginity over a toilet.
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Citizen's arrest, he said. Well, that, and Patch told me to.
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He brushed my curls back off my face. “I never pictured my life so complete. I never thought I’d have everything I want. You’re everything to me, Angel.
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His were the kind of eyes that held secrets. The kind that lied without flinching. The kind that once you looked into them, it was hard to break away.
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She already has a car.” “A Ford. That’s like Toyota’s worst enemy.
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