Hey everyone! Today we have some extracts from the amazing History is All You Left Me, which will surely make you sob your heart out. Adam Silvera is also the writer of More Happy Than Not and the hotly anticipated upcoming They Both Die At The End! I cannot wait to read it!
Theo scoots closer to me. “I have real things to be worried about, dude, like if the zombie pirates are going to know how to use grappling hooks and matchlocks or if they’re taking us down with teeth and nails. You don’t scare me, and you’ll never be too complicated for my friendship.” Theo pats my knee. His hand rests there for a solid minute. “And I’m sorry if I forced you to come out just now – wait am I the first person you’ve told?”I nod, my heart pounding. “You didn’t force me. Okay, actually you did a little, but I wanted to tell you anyway. I just didn’t have the balls or some huge speech I was also a little scared I was wrong about my instincts for you. Delusions run in my mother’s side of the family.”“You’re not delusional,” Theo says. “And you’re not crazy.”He reaches for my hand, and it’s not for a high five. I know the world hasn’t changed, what goes up still has to come down, but the way I see the world has shifted a little to the right, moving forward, and I can now see it the way I’ve always wanted to. I hope I don’t say or do anything that will force the world to shift counterclockwise again.I squeeze Theo’s hand, testing whatever it is we’re doing here, and I feel like I’m answering a question I was never brave enough to ask. (History. Sunday, June 8th, 2014.) Good morning, Theo. Sorry I shut down on you last night. I couldn’t shake off the haunting suspicion you’re hovering over Jackson instead of me. It was like some itch speeding around my body, always a second too late from scratching it dead. Don’t roll your eyes, but I did some soul searching. I dug deep into our history and remembered all our good times and the happy memories that would’ve eventually brought you back to me in life. I no longer believe I’m in this alone, talking to myself.I am still questioning how often you’re looking around for Jackson, though.Jackson.I haven’t forgotten he’s here. His crying stirred a tornado of sympathy and rage in me, and while I remained firm against the force of grief, I am definitely battered. I should’ve turned around to see if he’d worn himself out and fallen asleep or awake staring at walls like me, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. (Today. Friday, November 25th, 2016)
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AuthorA sixteen-year-old book-lover from Ireland. Reviews will come as often as I finish a book, which is quite quickly, to be fair! Archives
July 2017
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