““Jesse?’ ‘Yes, Ava?’ ‘How old are you?’ What a ridiculous question. Even if he did relent on this obsession with keeping his age a classified, I wouldn’t remember in the morning. He sighs. ‘Twenty five,’ I really am very drunk and car spin is beginning to set in, even though my eyes are closed. ‘It doesn’t matter how old you are.’ I mumble. ‘It doesn’t?’ ‘No, it doesn’t. Nothing matters – I still love you.’ I hear a sharp intake of breath before I pass out.””
