“You hurt my feelings." He shoots me a wounded look."I wasn't aware that you had any.”

“Sometimes--sometimes it just hits me, you know? And, it's not getting any easier." I choke, my eyes flooding all over again."I'm not sure that it will. I think you just get used to the feeling, the hollowness, the loss, and somehow learn to live around it”

“Well, for that matter, I was also a good friend of Leonardo da Vinci, Botticelli, Francis Bacon, Albert Einstein, and John, Paul, George, and Ringo." He pauses, seeing the blank look on my face and groaning when he says, "Christ, Ever, the Beatles!" He shakes his head and laughs. "God, you make me feel old.”

“Good luck with that." I turn to face him. "She's predisposed to hate you. Convinced you'll be my downfall. Says you've got heartbreaker written all over you."Dace grips the wheel tighter,eyebrows quirked, gaze stricken in a way that makes me feel bad for saying it, but it's only a moment later when he laughs and says, "Funny,that's the same thing Chepi said about you." Addressing my confusion when he adds, "That day at the gas station, when I saw you sitting on the curb,talking on the phone-Chepi caught me looking and warned me right then and there to keep my distance,to not get involved.”

“Saw you with my brother." His gaze moves over me. "Guess that explains your attraction to me-he looks just like me."His cocky grin fading when I roll my eyes in reponse."Well,you sure spend a lot of time thinking about me-searching for me-don't you,Santos?" he says,determined to make me admit the ridiculous."Don't flatter yourself,Coyote. It's an occupational hazard.Purely job related.”

“This is where we go our seperate ways.Aware of the almost feel of his hand on my arm when he pulls me back to him and says, "Yes."I look at him, unsure of what he's saying yes to."The questions you asked earlier, about wanting to settle down, start a family, see my family? Yes. Yes to all of it."I try to swallow but can't, try to speak but the words just won't come.His hands sliding around me, grasping me to him, he lets go of the vial, allows it to fall, to crash to the ground. The sparkling green liquid seeping out all around as he says, "But mostly yes to you.”

“You must let the color to set for as long as it is possible.The darker the stain,the more that he loves you," she says,her English halting,broken, but the message is clear. Emphasized by the meaningful look she shoots Vane and me."Oh,we're not-" I start to say. We're not in love! But Vane's quick to stop me.Slipping an arm around my shoulder, he presses his lips to my cheek, bestowing on the old woman the kind of smile that encourages her to smile back in a startling display of grayed and missing teeth. His actions stunning me stupid, leaving me to sit slack faced and dumb-with heated cheeks,muddied hands, and a rising young breakout start draped over my back.Having never been in love,I admit that I'm definitely no expert on the subject. I have no idea what it feels like.Though I'm pretty sure it doesn't feel like this.I'm pretty dang positive Vane's just cast himself in yet another starring role-playing the part of my dashing young love interest,if only to appease this strange,Moroccan woman we'll never see again.Still,Vane is an actor,and an audience is an audience-no matter how small.”