What are they waiting to see?" Sam follows my gaze and I shrug. "Who knows? You could always do a dance, or tell a joke, or. . . kiss the bride?" "Not the bride," he wraps his arms around me, and gradually pulls me close. Our noses are practically touching. I can see right into his eyes. I can feel the warmth of his skin. "you. " Me. "The girl who stole my phone. " His lips brush across the corner of my mouth. "The thief. " "It was in a bin. " "Still stealing. " "No it isn't-," I begin. But now his mouth is firmly on mine, and I can't speak at all. And suddenly, life is good.
Howard Hughes was this visionary who was obsessed with speed and flying like a god. . . I loved his idea of what filmmaking was.