September knew how to walk. In fact, she’d become quite adept at that sort of thing for the better part of her 16 years. It was only until she passed Billy Walsh in the hallways of Summerville High that her legs were as stable as two spindly, licorice sticks that had been left out on the streets of her native New Orleans during Mardi Gras.
They were a hopeless jumble of nerves that seemed to short circuit whenever the tall, handsome …

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I was six when I first learned that I was different. None of my classmates seemed to want to talk to me much or play with me during recess. I didn’t exactly understand the giggles and the pointing. My innocence made me believe that the pointing meant that they were choosing me; that I was special and being singled out to be their very best friend. I learned that I was wrong when the pointing abruptly …

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