“Um, yeah. I guess lying around reading books all day doesn't do much for physical endurance.”

“May I guess this has something to do with the particularly hot undead guy you suck face with on a regular basis?”

“I spent the rest of the day in someone else's story. The rare moments that I put the book down, my own pain returned in burning stabs.”

“So is this a habit of yours, leaving your bag behind in order te strike up a conversation?" He grinned and nodded at the bench where I had been sitting. Lying beneath it was my book bag. "Wouldn't it be easier to just walk up to a guy and say hello?”

“I spent the rest of my day in someone else’s story. The rare moments that I put the book down, my own pain returned in burning stabs. I felt like a circus knife thrower’s target. If I held my mind immobile, I might avoid being hit by the blades whizzing by my head.”

“She leaves an empty hole behind her. There was this feeling of optimism and joy in the house when she was around that's now turned into void. Like Vincent, I feel hollow. Sad. And as the days pass, I begin to realize I've grown to care for Kate. Not as my best friend's girlfriend, but as someone in and of herself. And I realize I miss her.”

“At lunch I turned my phone on to check my messages. Georgia always sent me a few inane texts during the day, and sure enough there were two messages from her: one complaining about her physics teacher and a second, also obviously sent from her phone: I love you, baby. V.I wrote her back: I thought I told you to buzz off last night, you creep-o French stalker guy.Her response came back immediately: As if! Your beet-red cheeks this morning suggest otherwise ... liar! You're so into him.I groaned and was about to turn my phone off when I saw that there was a third text from UNKNOWN. Clicking on it, I read: Can I pick you up from school? Same place, same time?I texted back: How'd you get my number?Called myself from your phone while you were in the restaurant's bathroom last night. Warned you we were stalkers!”