For my birthday, the boy took me to Barnes and Nobles and told me to pick out any book I wanted. This was quite the predicament for a bookworm like me, but surprisingly enough ten minutes later I picked this book up. He still tortured me by making me go row by row, where I managed to pick up even more books and then had to begin a painful process of elimination.
I ended up letting him choose and he went with this one, which is funny to me because the book jacket says it’s about, “Kid, a fourteen-year-old Tennesseean who stumbles into a nightmarish world in which the market for Indian scalps is thriving.
How romantic.
And this is why I adore the boy so very much.
