“True love will triumph in the end—which may or may not be a lie, but if it is a lie, it's the most beautiful lie we have.”
― John Green
Rose woke up in the morning to a splitting headache. Throwing back the comforter so cool air hit her bare legs, she couldn’t stop the flashes from last night running through her mind: rubbing sexually against Xavier on the dance floor, throwing up on the sidewalk, Xavier sitting with her in this room after she’d changed. Him telling her he needed to make sure she didn’t throw up while passed out. Immediately, her eyes went to the other side of the bed where Xavier, wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, was leaning against the headboard in a sitting position, eyes closed. It looked like he'd fallen asleep sitting up. A fleeting memory, almost like a dream,
