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Inwardly, I gouged my eyes out.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Gouged
Inwardly
Eyes
Eye

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I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower. He grinned, hopping off the bike. Now that is an invitation.
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Arrogance can be deadly.
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Rollover minutes don’t work with curfews.
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and just like that, I shut off the switch to my brain.
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Kiss me in a way I'll never forget. Kiss me in a way that will stay with me until see you again
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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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I saw you, and I wanted to be close to you. I wanted you to let me in. I wanted to know you in a way no one else did. I wanted you, all of you.
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I could get you to smile like that, and without sales tax.
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This was it. Together. Forever. As we left it all behind, the sun warmed my back, lighting the way before us. I knew of no better omen.
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Door’s locked,” he said. “And we have unfinished business.
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You can call me Patch. No really. Call me.
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Walk out,” he repeated. “We need to talk.” “About how you need to sacrifice me to get a human body?” I asked, my tone light, my insides feeling leaden. “That might be cute if you thought it was true.
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I took three steps back he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked. “I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house! “Tacos?” “Tacos?” I echoed. This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.” “I know what a taco is!
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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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One more secret smile. One more shared laugh. One more electric kiss. Finding him was like finding someone I didn't know I was searching for.
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Nope. That´s my line. This is my boyfriend´s house, which makes that my line,exclusively.Where is he? Nora (p. 287)
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Light had a way of keeping the monsters of my imagination at bay.
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You’re crowding me. I need— room.”... What I needed were boundaries. I needed willpower. I needed to be caged up, since yet again I was proving I couldn’t be trusted in Patch’s presence. I should have been bolting for the door, and yet … I wasn’t.
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Nora: What are you planning? Patch: I wouldn't call this planning. I'd call this throwing a Hail Mary with seconds left on the clock.
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I was just about to ask you the same thing. I know you followed me. Don't look so suprised. It's called a rearview mirror. Are you stalking me for a specific reason?
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