“I had Benia's hands, Meryt's friendship, the feel of newborn flesh, the smiles of new mothers, a little girl who laughed in my kitchen, a house of my own. It was more than enough.”

“She turned and smiled. “Kitchen-sink pasta.”“My favorite. But you really ought to come up with a better name for it than kitchen-sink pasta. Sounds only slightly more appealing than bathtub gefilte fish.”She shuddered. “Who in god’s name would make bathtub gefilte fish?”“I dated a Jewish girl whose grandmother made it,” I laughed.”

“Maggie was ready to drop everyone and everything for him… And I was self-aware enough to know that I was feeling more than a little jealous.Not because I liked Maggie like that or anything. No, it had more to do with my selfish desire to have my girls all to myself. Hey, I never pretended to be overly mature. But at least I can own it.”

“I didn't respond to him. Couldn't speak at all. Couldn't look at his self-mutilation--not even the clean, bandaged version of it. Instead, I looked at my own rough, stained house painter's hand. They seemed more like puppets than hands. I had no feelings in it either.”

“I was studying the football in my hands, running my fingers over the pigskin, across the letters of the brand name printed on the side.This elongated spheriod that didn't even weigh a whole pound. I was choosing this ridiculous ball of leather in my hands over my own flesh and blood. I was putting myself, my girlfriend, my scholarship--I was putting everything before this little boy that i loved more than anything in this world.-Will”

“I’d never been the girl who invited strange men to my house. In fact, I generally took a while to invited guys I was dating over. But Joel had two things that made me want to break my usual protocol; information that could help me and intimate eyes. Clearly friendship was looking more like a plan B.”