Prologue

I love you.

The three simple words were so short, yet meant so much – a perfect combination of fire and passion. It was the statement that all girls longed to hear and the words that drained the colour out of any pubescent boys face. It was the underlying commitment that teenagers threw around constantly, as if it was absolutely nothing. Everybody seemed to be ‘in love’ at Washington Heights. On the first day of junior year, the lockers had come to reside couples exchanging saliva in between classes, and the bathroom talk consisted of the cliche giggly chatter of the greatest sex positions. That exact day, I made a vow to myself. Never will I fall in love.