Weetzie’s heart felt so full with love, so full, as if it could hardly fit in her chest. She knew they were all afraid. But love and disease are both like electricity, Weetzie thought. They are always there—you can’t see or smell or hear, touch, or taste them, but you know they are there like a current in the air. We can choose, Weetzie thought, we can choose to plug into the love current instead.
And she looked around the table at Dirk and Duck and My Secret Agent Lover Man, and Cherokee and Witch Baby—all of them lit up and golden like a wreath of lights. I don’t know about happily ever after…but I know about happily, Weetzie Bat thought.
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