"It wasn't exactly how I pictured it, either," Althea shouts back. Her legs are shaking. "How do you think I feel? Do you think that's what I wanted?" "Then why did you do it?" Althea stares at him, knowing if he even has to ask, it's already over, she's already lost. "I don't think I could have stopped it. And if you could remember, you would know what I mean, and you would know that I'm right." Releasing her, he takes a step back, shaking his head. There's gravel in his voice, a roughness she's never heard before. "I'll tell you what I know. This, you and me, this is all just geography. If it had been some other little girl who grew up down the block from me, I would have been her best friend for ten years, too, until I realized one day that I wasn't sure I even liked her very much. You're like an incumbent president that no one can stand but you get reelected anyway, you have the advantage because you're already in and when someone's in it's so much harder to get them out." Excerpted from Althea and Oliver by Cristina Moracho All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
