My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse, Carla.
But then one day, a moving
truck arrives next door. I look out my window, and I see him. He’s tall,
lean and wearing all black—black T-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers,
and a black knit cap that covers his hair completely. He catches me
looking and stares at me. I stare right back. His name is Olly.
we can’t predict the future, but we can predict some things. For
example, I am certainly going to fall in love with Olly. It’s almost
certainly going to be a disaster.