Lia Papad

“Did that just happen?” Isaac asked as they headed upstairs. “Your landlady… she’s like, eightysomething. And unless I’m wrong, she dressed up in her husband’s suits and pretended to be a boy so they could have bi threesomes in a booth at whatever a boy’s club is.”
“Sounds like it,” Laurent agreed.”
― Avon Gale, Empty Net

“For the first time in his whole life, Laurent played the game out of love instead of hate. But it wasn’t his love of hockey that kept him focused in net.
Every time a puck came toward him and he made a save, he thought, “This is for Isaac.” Every time one of his dickhead former teammates snarled something insulting or called him names, he ignored them and thought about Isaac calling him Saint. He thought about Isaac’s dumb blue hair dye that had left a stain in Laurent’s shower and that lip ring that drove Laurent crazy. He thought about the lake and eating a Twinkie on Isaac’s floor. He thought about Isaac saying he loved him.”
― Avon Gale, Empty Net

“I don't know if I love myself, Max. But I do know that I love you and that you mean it when you say you love me. Maybe I can see myself as that man, the one you love, instead of the one I always see when I look in the mirror.”
― Avon Gale, Power Play

“I’m so proud of you. I wanted to blow you, like, eighteen times.”
“I made thirty-four saves. Weren’t you paying attention?”
Isaac threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my God. You made a joke.”
“Who said I was joking?”
― Avon Gale, Empty Net