“It's like going out to the desert and screaming and then having little kids throw their sandbox at you. I'm only 24.”

“When I was a kid we had a sandbox. It was a quicksand box. I was an only child...eventually.”

“You have the patience of a saint," I grumbled, slouching into a chair. "And besides, you don't hang out with him 24/7.""Neither will you. It's only 24/6.""Same difference. It might as well be 24/10."She frowned. "That doesn't make any sense.”

“You aren't kidding. But you know, it's likely going to be the only time I'll ever be that skinny and have a fur coat.”

“Do I have to make a poster and scream Ryan, Ryan?" I kidded."The only time I want to hear you scream my name is when I'm making love to you. Although you did call me God the other night. That's acceptable, too.”

“You could hear the wind in the leaves, and on that wind traveled the screams of the kids on the playground in the distance, little kids figuring out how to be alive, how to navigate a world that wasn't made for them by navigating a playground that was.”