“I get out my hairbrush and wish for her—the real Lillian, and not the worst, most selfish parts of her. I wish for a warm, true best friend, one who didn’t die.”

“The best friend is the man who in wishing me well wishes it for my sake.”

“It's like she thinks my job is to please her, and that should be my dearest wish, and when I don't please her - I get shut out.”

“When I was young, I used to wish I would fit in… I’m glad I didn’t get my wish.”

“It’s just… I wish it was easier, for me, you know?” I make a special point not to look at her. “I wish it was someone else who was chosen for this. Someone competent. If only I didn’t stop that robbery. I wish I didn’t have to go through with it all.” It comes gushing out, with words like spilled milk. “And I wish it was me with you and not that other guy. I wish it was my own skin touching with yours…”And there you have it.Stupidity in its purest form.“Oh, Ed.” Audrey looks away. “Oh, Ed.”Our feet dangle.I watch them, and I watch the jeans on Audrey’s legs.We only sit there now.Audrey and me.And discomfort.Squeezed in, between us.She soon says, “You’re my best friend, Ed.”“I know.”You can kill a man with those words.No gun.No bullets.Just words and a girl.”

“She wished with one part of her soul this weren’t real and with the other that it was, but wasn’t it just another goodbye either way?”