Magic or Madness (The Wreck Me Duet #1)

OZZY

The climb is the most difficult, but damn, reaching the top is the most rewarding feeling.

Masha loved hiking.

Any chance she could, she’d run to these trails, finding new paths and ways to connect with nature, sitting on top of the mountains for hours.

None of us liked being her escort, as it was exhausting, but seeing her face as she looked out toward the horizon was truly the most enjoyable part of the hike.

Now, on this chilly morning, all eight of us are sitting on the edge of the cliff, waiting for the sun to rise.

Fallon is snuggling under my arm, and I couldn’t be more proud of her for setting all of this up. If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t be here, back home doing something that is so long overdue.

Our day is full of things to honor Masha, and I keep replaying the events of her last day in my head, but surprisingly, the guilt eats at me less this year.

The day started like any other, a morning planning session with Doc, who swore the only way this job would be done was if we ran in pairs.

We all pushed back, but Masha was excited to work in the field and wanted to run it with me.

I worried about her judgment, but had confidence in the plan, so we spent the day going over everything, and I forced her to always stay in front of me.

I felt that I couldn’t protect her if she was behind me, but I now know how wrong I was.

I remember the sound of her bones crushing against the metal of the car, and her screams once her body landed on the ground.

I’d never seen so much blood, or felt a person so broken in my arms.

She was delicate as it was, but this car was no match, turning her body limp, and forcing the final breath out of her way too soon.

I’ll never forget the fear in her eyes, staring up at me as she lay in my lap in the backseat and the slow tears that rolled down her cheeks while she spoke her last words aloud.

“Mio Fratello.”

It’s the phase that’s mixed into the tattoo on my back, so subtle that nobody would notice it was there, unless they were looking hard enough.

Now, as we face this day, standing strong together for the first time, I feel the best I have since the morning we embarked on that job all those years ago.

“Here it comes!” Pepper yells, and we all watch as the sun slowly starts to rise over the horizon.

It’s gradual, the sun taking her time gracing us with her presence, but when she does, the colors she chooses to light up the sky with are astonishing. Almost as if it was a private show, just for the eight of us, and Masha was part of the display.

I saw hints of her in so many of the sweeping clouds, and all I could do was sit atop this mountain, watching in awe as a perfect portrait was painted for the people who loved Masha the most.

“That was breathtaking,” I whisper, holding Fallon close to my chest.

“It was all for you,” she says, squeezing my arms and lacing her fingers through mine.

God, I wish I could frame this moment, saving for when I need it the most.

“Okay, ladies and gents. Let’s get back and have a special someone’s favorite breakfast,” Fallon calls, and we all follow her down the same trail we took on the way up here.

I always tell Fallon that Masha would’ve loved her, especially because of how smart they both are, but in reality, I could see Masha being a big sister to Fallon.

Taking care of her, spending late nights together talking about who knows what, and becoming a tight-knit force to be reckoned with.

Unfortunately, that vision will never come to life, but when I imagine it in my head, it’s a sanctuary, a place where everything is exactly how it should be.

After breakfast is cooked, eggs Benedict with a shit ton of bacon, Oliver and Fallon run off for a last-minute errand, and as much as I hate seeing her go without me, I have trust in Oliver.

He’d go to the end of the world and back to protect her, and I know that, but anyone who’s not me isn’t a hundred percent guarantee.

I’m paranoid, on alert until they return, but Fallon tasked us all with writing a few things about Masha on a ceramic plate while she’s gone, and we take her guidance knowing she’s got the best interest of us all in her heart.

I take a permanent seat on the couch, using a Sharpie to write down everything I remember about my fallen sister and the plethora of things I want to accomplish in life now that I’ve found a source of happiness outside of my all-consuming grief.

After two hours, I start to worry, but Fallon and Oliver breeze through the rental house, looking like they’ve had the best time, and I can finally relax.

“Come here.” I pull my girl right into my arms, not caring whose eyes are on us.

“Missed you,” she whispers, leading me by the hand up the stairs to our room.

“Bambi, I don’t know if I can –” I say, and she shushes me, closing the door behind us.

“I have something for you, baby.” She hands me a black paper bag, and I raise my eyebrow at her, but she pushes me on, encouraging me to open it.

I pull a small box out of the bag, wrapped in a silver ribbon, and I slowly tug at the silky fabric until it comes apart.

When I lift the lid, a gold pendant sits before me, shining in the light, and it looks slightly familiar.

“It’s the pendant for the Patron Saint of grief. Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, she lost many family members, and is supposed to help those struggling with unfathomable grief,” she explains, her voice barely a whisper as she takes my hand in hers.

She takes the delicate chain out of the box and fastens it around my neck, admiring the beauty as she smiles, and I can’t help the tears from falling.

“You bought this for me?”

“Of course, Ozzy. The one Oliver wears helps him feel connected to his dad, and I thought if there was something out there to make you feel the same with Masha, then you needed it.” She reaches on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, and I pull her into my arms.

“How do you know exactly what I need, when I need it?” I ask, a small smirk growing across my face.

“I know you baby. Do you love it?”

“More than you know. This is everything to me,” I tell her, holding her face in my hands.

I could never repay Fallon for all that she’s done for me, but today – this gift and this trip – is almost too much.

I tug at the newly placed chain around my neck and instantly feel the connection to Masha that Fallon explained, and I’m overcome with so many emotions that all I can do is let the tears fall. Today, words aren’t needed, and my girl picks up on it right away, snuggling into my back and wrapping her arms around my waist.

I hold her hands while she holds me and I’m not afraid to feel the pain, or the loss. Fallon once told me that I hold her together, and right now, she’s doing exactly that for me.

“I love you, Fallon Morell Mariano, with every single thing inside my body and soul,” I whisper, just loud enough for her to hear.

“ Anch'io ti amo, Ozzy.”

We stay locked into each other's arms, trading whispers and sweet nothings until there’s a knock on our door, signaling that it’s time to go.

Our next stop is to the beach, where we’ll drop flowers in the ocean, and walk up to her memorial.

Fallon makes sure we all have our plates and baggies, as we’ll be smashing the plates to let go of the things we wrote down.

It’s supposed to be therapeutic, allowing yourself to release the things that haunt you in the middle of the night, and moving forward with a piece of your heart on the mend.

This trip has been all about healing, and I’m finally starting to think it’s working. The nightmares have been kept at bay since Fallon’s idea came to light, and the screams in my head are becoming something resembling a quiet hum, always there, but not distracting or debilitating.

Masha wanted us close to her this year, and we followed her calling. That’s all I have to believe in.

“Man, remember when she roped us into a sandcastle-building competition? She smoked us all within a few hours, making her own castle and decorating with seashells,” Lex recalls, a sweet smile spread across his face as we all stare at the waves.

The water rolls onto the shore, lightly touching the sand, and then following the pull back into the ocean. It’s repetitive, and Masha taught me that it’s one of the purest forms of beauty.

“No matter how many times the shore pushes the waves away, they always come back. Sometimes weaker, sometimes stronger, but nevertheless, they always come back to what they know.”

Her way with words was fascinating, and although she was only eighteen when we met her, she had always been wise beyond her years.

“It took a lot of digging, and too much time, but I found something you guys might want to see,” Max speaks up, holding out his phone.

We crowd around him, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

It’s a group photo from a few years ago, and our faces have changed a bit, but Masha’s is still exactly the way I remember her in my head.

Her skin was so tan that summer from all the time we spent on the beach, and her dark, pin-straight hair was pulled back into its signature ponytail.

Her smile outshined all of ours, and I can’t recall exactly where this was taken, but the sun was setting behind us. We were all happy, our arms draped over each other’s shoulders like a tight-knit family. And that’s what we were .

“She was so beautiful,” Fallon whispers, squeezing my arm lightly.

This should hurt, but somehow, I don’t feel an ounce of pain.

One by one, we drop our small bouquets in the ocean, watching as the tide takes them away, and my heart feels full for the first time in a very long time.

We walk along the shore, the sun slowly descending from the sky over the ocean, painting another beautiful picture for us.

Everyone is quiet, the only sounds coming from the sea, as we each seem to be lost in our own thoughts. Eventually, we wade through the sand up to the path that leads to Masha’s memorial.

My hand squeezes harder around Fallon’s, and the air is beginning to restrict in my lungs. We’re almost there, almost with her again, and I can feel the panic rising through my veins, making its way through my body with an ice-cold shiver.

Through the trees, there’s a small clearing, just large enough for all of us to place down a blanket and sit together.

The five of us look up, our eyes connecting with the tree we carved in Masha’s honor. It’s torn up, reminiscent of how we all felt at the time, but her name and birthday are still front and center.

Fallon hands me one last bouquet, and I place it at the trunk of the tree, tracing my fingers over the marks in the bark.

One by one, the guys follow me, showing their respects, and joining us back on the blanket.

Fallon passes me the champagne, and I pop the cork, pouring the bubbly into red plastic cups for everyone while Fallon passes them around.

I take the rest of the bottle and pour it out next to the flowers, saving enough for Masha.

None of us speak for a while, enjoying the silence as dusk falls around us, leaving the eight of us under darkened skies and tree leaves for cover.

We’re in our own sanctuary here, even if it’s the most painful place I’ve ever staked a claim in something.

“Masha, care to explain why you wanted us all here this year?” Oliver asks, tipping his head to the sky and chuckling.

We all laugh somberly, and I find relief in his small joke, seemingly breaking the ice for the rest of us.

“I think she wanted to see us again, back home, as a unit like we once were,” I say softly, taking Fallon’s hand in mine. “And to meet some new faces.”

“Hi, Masha!” Fallon smiles, waving at her tree and tipping her red cup toward her in salute.

“ God , she would’ve loved you,” Lex breathes, and I feel a single tear escape my eye, trailing down my cheek.

I’ve always thought so, but hearing someone else say it aloud is fucking liberating.

“Ozzy always says that,” she whispers, stroking my hand with her thumb.

“Maybe she sent you to us, and that’s why she asked us here this year,” Oliver muses, and everyone’s heads nod in agreement.

Even Journey agrees, his silence speaking volumes as he was the most affected by her death – besides me.

Masha took to Journey immediately, saying he reminded her of her big brother who’d died when she was a teenager. They were close, and he wasn’t always a hard-shelled asshole with us on opposite sides of a fight, he once was someone we all admired.

“I remember when I met Masha at one of those stupid parties Doc would throw. She hated every second of it, hiding in the corner and glaring at anyone who’d look her way,” Cami chimes in, a big smile on her face as she sips her champagne.

“You were so wild back then, Cams. It’s still baffling how you two ever got along.” Oliver kisses her cheek, and I can’t escape the smile forming on my face.

For some reason, Oliver and Camila just work so well together, even when they fight, and I’ve deduced that he’s an idiot if he leaves her behind again.

“I know, I was lucky she even looked at me, especially given how drunk I was at that party. She showed me so many beautiful parts of this world that I still see daily. That’s just the effect she had on people.” She wipes the tears pooling on her cheeks, shaking her head as she tries to keep her emotions in check.

Max wanders off, the pain of the day seeming to creep over him, but I shake my head when Fallon asks if we should check on him.

Death is hard for Max, after losing his entire family in a car accident and being the only survivor. He was only fifteen and watched as his parents, twin sisters, and a few-month-old brother all took their last breaths, while trapped inside the confines of the family minivan.

Unfortunately, that date is only a week apart from Masha’s, and his grief is everlasting this time of year. As much as we try to be there for him, he pushes us away year after year, claiming that he can handle it on his own.

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time here the last few years. I know I didn’t mark that tree, or spend as much time with her as you guys did … but it’s been pretty lonely around here since you guys left and well, I felt comfort when I sat with Masha,” Cami whispers, and Oliver wraps his arms around her.

“Come home with us, Cams. Back where you belong.”

Everyone smiles, staring directly at Cami until her decision is made.

“You mean that?”

“More than anything. You’re a part of this family, just as Pepper and Fallon are,” he says softly, and we all nod in agreement, willing her to say yes.

Camila may be a train wreck, a hurricane, and a pain in the ass, but Oliver is right – she belongs with us.

Seeing her only solidified that, and we were all kidding ourselves on the way down here, making fun of Oliver and their dynamic. She’s the only woman who could ever handle him, and it’s evident by the smile that hasn’t left his face since she joined us at the club last night.

“Alright. Take me to North Carolina,” she laughs, holding her red cup in the air.

We all clink the plastic together, opening up another space in our hearts and making room for her in this dysfunctional family.

Just as we do, the sky opens up, dumping warm Florida rain over our heads, and soaking us within minutes.

We all shake our heads and smile, knowing exactly who was trying to communicate with us. We’re complete again, and the nagging sensation in my heart is leading me to believe that Masha was leading us home to Camila, not her.

I glance over at her, snuggling under Oliver’s arm, and something tells me that we were brought here to find her and bring her home where she belongs.

“It just got louder in the dealership, that’s for sure,” Fallon laughs at her own joke, the champagne always making her giggly.

“Oh, Fallon. You and I are going to get into trouble together, I can feel it in my bones.” Cami winks, and Fallon shudders against me, almost as if she’s turned on.

I sneak a peek at her, and her cheeks are flushed, but she’s smiling as big as the sky.

We've never talked about something like this, but I have an inkling of an idea that Fallon may be attracted to women – or at least Cami.

I can’t get the image out of my mind, thinking of her exploring a different side of herself with somebody who isn’t me. Ideally, it wouldn’t be Camila, my best friend’s girl, but I’d never hold her back.

“Do you all have your plates?” Fallon asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I stuff the ideas of her sexual desires down, knowing that isn’t what we came here for. Another time, another place.

Just as she says that, Max comes from behind the trees, wiping the stray tears from his cheeks, falling into us as if he’d never left.

“Alright, Bambi. What’re we supposed to do with these?”

“Destroy them. Throw them at the tree, step on them. Whatever you think will be the best way for you to let go of the things you wrote down,” she explains, and everyone nods along, listening as she speaks.

I swear, she’s taken on the motherly role of this group, and we all respect her for different reasons.

Fallon gave plates to Cami and Pepper, as well as filling out her own. Even though they’re not trying to move forward from the same things we are, she wanted everyone to be included, as it’s a healing exercise, and we all have things to put behind us, as she so gracefully put it.

One by one, we all stand, plates zipped in bags, as we decide how to break them in a way that will be beneficial.

For me, I crack the ceramic down the middle in the exact spot I intended, and I unzip the bag, leaving the half dedicated to Masha at the base of the tree.

The other half is what I wrote for the future, and I hand it to Fallon, knowing she’s the only thing important enough in my life to dream of another day with.

“You’re not breaking your plate?” Her eyebrow raised and her arms crossed over her chest, almost like a disappointed teacher looking at a student who failed their art project.

“I did. I broke it in half. One for Masha, one for you,” I say, kissing her cheek gently, holding out hope that she understands my intentions.

“Literally not the assignment, but I accept, only because of how thoughtful you are,” she smiles, taking my hand as she holds her plate in the other.

“I want to smash this on the rocks by the shore, will you come with me?” She asks, those doe-like eyes captivating me.

“Lead the way, Bambi.” I steady her by the waist as we walk along the bumpy path, ensuring she doesn’t slip or step on anything dangerous.

We’re quiet as we tread through the sand, something hanging in the air between us, which never usually happens.

“Before you smash that, are you alright?” I stop us in our tracks, spinning her to face me because this tension doesn’t feel right.

“I’m okay, why?” I cock my head, a slight smirk on my face, and rather than having to question her further, she sighs, giving into my mind-reading abilities.

“I’m letting go of my mom, stepdad, Mick, and Rae. It’s a lot, basically anything resembling family before you, and I’m a little sad. But, I don’t want to steal your pain. This trip is about you, Ozzy, not me. I shouldn't have even written a plate, but I couldn’t resist,” she confesses, staring down at the water cascading over our toes.

“You have every right to make yourself a plate, Fallon. Let go of whatever you think holds you back, hurts you, or reminds you of places that you want to forget,” I whisper, taking her face in my hands, almost willing her to believe me.

“I’m about to turn twenty-one, with the love of my life, and I want to let go of the things from my past. The future is bright, like the clouds I’ve always been surrounded by are finally clearing, and the sun is shining – just for us,” she explains, her voice falling into a soft, yet delicate tone, and I bring her close, kissing her forehead.

“ You are the sun, Fallon,” I say, watching as those brown eyes dilate, her expression changing with my words.

“You say the sweetest things to me, Ozzy. I swear, this, you and me, is all that matters,” she says, first touching her heart, and then mine.

“I know, Bambi.”

She’s soaking wet, the rain unforgiving, but something about this downpour is freeing. I could stay outside all night, letting Mother Nature take out her cruelest frustrations, and absolving me of the things I, too, have held onto for far too long.

I’m being cleansed, granted a new beginning, and there’s not a single group of people that I’d rather be with for this moment.

I look down at Fallon and from this angle, she’s tiny, but the sadness running through her body is massive, almost begging to be released.

I can read her body language, the kink in her eyebrow showing that she’s in deep thought, and the slight shake of her head tells me that she’s trying not to cry, but ready to heal from her past trauma.

I follow her to the rocks, watching as the waves crash onto them, splashing and spraying salty water each time they reach the shore. It’s louder over here, as the rush of the water is more intense, and I can’t think of a better spot for Fallon to clear herself of everything on her plate.

“Here goes nothing,” she says with a sad smile, lifting her arms in the air.

I watch as her plate comes crashing down, shattering into pieces inside the ziplock bag. One throw wasn’t enough, though, as she takes it in her hands again, dropping it back down until the pieces become smaller. As she throws her pain in the form of a plate, screams of anguish leave her body, like she’s exorcizing her past demons and casting them out of her body, and mind, for good.

She repeats this over and over again until she’s out of breath, there’s nothing left to smash, and the screams become silent cries.

There’s dust, and shards of ceramic, coating the bottom of the bag with remnants of colorful markers left on some of the larger pieces.

“Better?” I drape my arm over her shoulder, listening as her ragged breaths slow down and she breathes a deep sigh of relief.

“No, but I will be.” She leans into my touch, snuggling under my arm, and walking in sync with me down the shore.

I take her hand, bending our elbows in a crook until I can kiss the place where our tattoos meet.

“ Sacred prayer ,” I whisper, her beautiful eyes flicking up to meet mine.

“Like an oath.”

It’s our little saying, something that Fallon whispered to me one night in the darkness of our room, and I’ll never get enough of us dedicating ourselves to each other with five simple little words.

Nobody could ever understand what it means to us, those phrases she whispered to me carving out a special place in my heart that only she could climb inside and occupy.

In a short time, so much of me has become hers, that sometimes, I can’t define where she ends, and I begin.

The others slowly make their way back to us, and we climb back under the cover of the trees, settling down on the blanket. Nobody is in a rush to leave, but as I scan the faces surrounding me, I can see the relief in their eyes, like Fallon’s healing exercise actually worked.

Somehow, this group feels lighter, the tension feeling less like a rope around our necks, and more like a comfortable silence linking us together in a light embrace.

Slowly, everyone begins to gather their things, saying their goodbyes to Masha and walking down the path we came.

I wait back, letting everyone have their moment, opting to go last and having my own privacy as I attempt to truly push through the guilt and the grief.

“I’ll give you space and wait at the bottom for you,” Fallon whispers, letting go of my hand.

“Please stay.” I pull her back to my chest and she nods, wrapping her arms around my waist.

I push the damp hair from her face, wiping the rain around her eyes as she gives me a warm smile – my favorite one – where the dimples stand out on her cheeks.

“You can do this, Ozzy,” she says, cupping my cheek with her soft hand.

I nod, feeling empty as I let her go, and stand in front of this tree one final time.

“You have a funny way of asking for attention, Sorellina .” I crack, a slight chuckle coming from my throat before I become more serious.

Masha loved a good joke more than anyone, and I fear she’d be disappointed if I didn’t show up at her memorial site without a few tucked under my sleeve.

“As you know, this is Fallon, the absolute light of my life. I don’t know if you brought her to me, but please watch over her when I can’t. Keep her safe for me,” I plead, feeling my girl rubbing her hand along my forearm. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me – besides you.”

I draw a deep breath, close my eyes, and tip my head to the sky, letting the mild air reach my lungs. When I exhale, I finally feel like I can push this pain down, keeping it from corrupting me any further.

“I’ve got him now, you can let go.” Fallon steps up, placing one fallen flower on the only branch she can reach.

I take her hand, leading us from the clearing back to the beach, and when we get past the cover of the trees, we see a rainbow directly over the ocean.

It’s faint, as the sun is still setting over the horizon, but the colors are visible. Its arch shape cascades over the sea, bringing closure to all of us on this beach.

“ Goodbye, Masha.” I look to the sky, my words almost as faint as a whisper when Fallon squeezes my hand, reassuring me that I’m not dreaming, and we walk back to the van without another word.

Nothing else needs to be said. I’ll always feel Masha in the wind, or smile when something reminds me of her, but after today, she will no longer haunt me.

Single handedly, I plan to erase the sadness looming over this rental house and make the most out of our last day here.

All the guys are up, heading out the door as we sneak off to make a drop before surprising the girls with a beach day.

It’s Fallon’s dream date, and there’s no chance in hell we’re leaving Jacksonville without her being swept off her feet. After everything we’ve been through these last few weeks, and how hard she has worked to make me feel better, she deserves it, and much more.

This errand was Max’s idea, of course, suggesting that we top up on cash, accessories, and swap out weapons while we’re down here.

There’s a storage unit a few miles outside of town that served as Doc’s stash house, and we still pay the bills to keep up appearances. Plus, we always have a place to dock our shit when needed.

“Let’s make this quick, boys, in and out,” Max says, entering the code to access the gate.

Once inside the unit, we all spread out, following the carefully organized shelves and taking what we need.

Lex takes burner phones, a new modem, five new sets of earbuds, and a few other tech things he needs to keep us operational.

Max swaps out bills, carefully replacing the real cash and exchanging the amount from the counterfeit stack.

I grab boxes of ammo, a different pistol, and a small butterfly knife, saving it for Fallon. A little something for her to keep as protection.

Oliver grabs new IDs and passports, all wrapped in rubber bands, leaving the old ones in their place.

Journey keeps guard, monitoring the security cameras from his iPad and giving us a countdown. We all play our part, moving flawlessly within our roles, and after twenty minutes, we’re gone, as if we were never here.

“Scrub it,” Max says to Lex once we reach the highway, referring to the security and street cameras in the area.

Around here, the whispers of Doc are still strong, and covering our tracks when we’re home is the best way to stay safe, keeping wandering minds from asking questions.

I hate that I didn’t tell Fallon about this, but it feels too risky, having her know something that only the five of us do. Knowledge is power, but sometimes, knowing the darkest secrets only brings you further down into that darkness, which is a place I want her far away from.

“That should hold us over for a while, right Max?” Oliver asks, breaking the silence as we all stir in our own thoughts.

“I think so. When we get back up north we’ll slowly start distributing the fakes, and it’ll top us up substantially,” he replies, and we all nod in unison, nothing else needing to be said.

One of our more ruthless jobs came four years ago when we robbed a crew who specialized in counterfeit cash. Their bills were impeccable, rarely traced or identified as fake, and rather than joining them or competing, Doc wanted to take it all and topple their empire.

All of us shed blood that day, but we came out nearly unscathed, and with three million dollars in counterfeit currency.

Since then, we’ve washed about half of that, still sitting on roughly one and a half million left to clean. Doc was relentless, always trying to find new ways to swap the fake for real, but since his untimely departure, Max has scaled all the way back, only allowing us to clean one hundred thousand since we left Jacksonville.

Now, we’re leaving with another hundred, twenty of it for each of us to take care of. It’s medium risk, high reward, especially if the feds don’t catch on. Still, it’s something I haven’t been able to explain to Fallon, unsure of a way to make it sound less daunting than it truly is. She doesn’t scare easily, but this has always felt like blood money to me – in a way it is – and I prefer to wash my portion quickly, moving on until the next round.

There isn’t much I hide from my purple-haired beauty, though, and I’m sure I’ll confess this to her involuntarily, as I do with most things that are difficult to talk about.

“So, what’s this surprise for Fal?” Oliver questions, always being the one to chit-chat in these moments of silence that seem to bring peace to the rest of us.

He fills the role of a baby brother so well, it’s exactly on par for him.

“Just a beach day. One last day in Jacksonville, it’d be a shame if we did anything else.” I shrug, offering up nearly nothing, and keeping it light for his sake.

Nobody needs to know the ways I plan to spoil her today, and how much this one day will mean to her. Less than twenty-four hours into our love story, Fallon described her perfect date, and I remember every word she said. Even before I knew that we were meant to be and that I’d spend my life making her happy, I chose to remember that beautiful picture she painted me.

Her imagination was running wild and free, and she chose not to hide her true self from me for a single moment.

It was too cold all those nights ago in North Carolina, but today, the weather is perfect, and my girl is going to get her dream date.