I see the letters and pull out a good word first-like, karate, or arcane-and then I try to use the remaining letters to make-oh God, this is boring,” he said, hoping it w a sn’t. He wanted to draw out the moment before the moment-īecause as good as kissing feels, nothing feels as good as the anticipation of it. She smelled like lilacs, and then he knew that it was almost time. He could suddenly smell her over the dank basement. She laughed and pulled her hand away and placed it flat against his knee. “Night, nay,” he answered quickly, and she laughed and then said, And I’m good at, like, linguistic tricks like anagramming. “So What are you good at, exactly, anyway? I mean, I know you’re good at everything, but what are you so good at besides languages?” Epilogue, or the lindsey lee Wells chapter
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