“He stops in his tracks, face expressing major disappointment. "Wait - seriously? That's it? We don't get to do a stealthy tiptoe as we slip around back? No sneaking through a cracked window, or arguing over who gets to crawl through the dogie door to let the other one in?”

“We don't always get the journey we want. But we always get the journey we need.”

“I'm not sure I handled it well," he sais,his face so open,gaze filled with such raw regret,my heart aches on his behalf."Considering the circumstances, I think you did fine.Besides,it's not like you stood a chance,her mind was make up the moment she saw you."Dace jerks back,his expression slighted,voice unsure when he says, "I don't understand..."I fumble with my lunch sack,wondering why I can never say the right thing around him.Having no way to explain in a way that won't sound completely embarrassing,when Xotichl steps in."What's not to get? You're hot-Daire's gorgeous-it's a recipe for parental distress if there ever was one.”

“Just make sure you're gone by the time we get to Miles's. It creeps me out to see you sitting in his lap without his permission.”

“Where's your car? Miles asks, glancing at him as he slams his door shut and slings his backpack over his shoulder. "And whats up with your hand?""I got rid of it," Damen says, gaze fixed on mine. Then glancing at Miles and seeing his expression he adds, "The car, not the hand.""Did you trade it in?" I ask, but only because Miles is listening. [...]He shakes his head and walks me to the gate, smiling as he says, "No, I just dropped off on the side of the road, key in the ignition, engine running.""Excuse me?!" Miles yelps. "You mean to tell me that you left your shiny, black, BMW M6 Coupe—by the side of the road?"Damen nods.But thats a hundred-thousand-dollar car!" Miles gasps as his face turns bright red."A hundreds and ten." Damen laughs. "Don't forget, it was fully customized and loaded with options."Miles stares at him, eyes practically bugging out of his head, unable to comprehend how anyone could do such a thing—why anyone would do such a thing. "Um, okay, so let me get this straight—you just woke up and decided—Hey, what the hell? I think I'll just dump my ridiculously expensive luxury car by the side of the road—WHERE JUST ANYONE CAN TAKE IT?"Damen shrugs. "Pretty much.""Because in case you haven't noticed," Miles says, practically hyperventilating now. "Some of us are a little car deprived. Some of us were born with parents so cruel and unusual they're forced to rely on the kindness of friends for the rest of their lives!""Sorry." Damen shrugs. "Guess I hadn't thought about that. Though if it makes you feel any better, it was all for a very good cause.”

“Just Because something ends dosent mean that it's a bad thing or that someones bound to get hurt,ot that it never shold have happend in the first place or whatever. But If each step brings us to the next how can we grow if we avoid everything that can hurt us?? We pretty much have no choice but to get out there and hope for the best and who knows we may even learn a thing or two on the way”

“You never told me your name," he says, his voice so hauntingly familiar it causes a rush of heat to blanket my skin.I sigh,staring blankly down the hall when I say, "Psycho Girl-Psycho Horseback Singing Girl..." I shrug. "I've heard it both ways."He squints.His hand reaching for my shoulder,then falling away the instant he catches the look of reproach on my face."Look," I say,knowing I need to stop him before he can go any further.His kindness will only distract me at a time when I need to stay focused. "I've had a really bad day.And if my calculations are right,I have three hundred and eight more,give or take, before I get to graduate and get the heck out of this place. So,why don't you just call me whatever you want. Everyone else does.It's not like it matters..." My cheeks go hot,my eyes start to sting, and I know I'm rambling like a lunatic,but I cant seem to stop,can't seem to care.The world's most socially inept Seeker-that's me in a nutshell."Don't let them reduce you to that," he says,his gaze instense, his voice surprising me with its sincerity, its urgency. "Don't let them define how you see yourself,or your place here. And if you ever need someone to talk to,I'm not hard to find.I'm either in class, reading in the library,or eating lunch in the North hallway."The second he says it,my gaze flies down the length of him.Slipping past a gray V-neck tee and dark denim jeans,not the least bit surprised when I land on the same heavy,black, thick-soled shoes I spied earlier.Then before he can say anything more, I'm gone. Trying to ignore the comforting stream of kindness and love that swarms all around me.”