“Do you like me? You know, like me like me?"I cringe the moment I ask and cover my face with my hands. The smell of blood and trail dirt wafts into my nose. Something sinks inside me. What is it? Oh, I know, any dignity I could possibly have left.”

“Thank you for getting me," I try to say. My lips are so tired they don't want to move."Anytime,Zara.Really.I mean it." He seems to be smelling my hair."I know you hate me and everything but we should be friends," I tell him, closing my eyes."I don't hate you," he says. "That's not it at all.""What is it then? Are you a victim of parthenophobia?""Parthenophobia?""Fear of girls.""You are so strange." He moves back even closer to me, this wicked glint in his eyes like he's trying hard not to snort-laugh at me. His hand presses against the side of my head. Nobody has ever touched me like this before, all gentle and romantic, but strong at the same time. "I'm not afraid of girls.""Then why haven't you kissed any?"For a second his eyes flash. "Maybe the right one hasn't come around yet.”

“She smirks."Are you attempting to stop me, little one?""Excuse me? Did you just call me 'little one'? What are you? Like, four feet tall?" I ask.”

“You're following me," I finally say. "Why?""Because I'm trying to reclaim what's mine.""I'm not yours.""You are.You always have been.You always will be.""That's crap.""Is it? Look inside youself, Zara. I think you'll find what's true.""I don't know what's true anymore. But I know you're starting to sound like a bad ripoff of Darth Vader in an old Star Wars movie. And I know you're trying to hurt me."He shakes his head and listens to air. "Never.""Which part? The Darth thing or the hurting thing?""Both.”

“He has an armload of irises and daisies and tulips and he presents them to me. "I didn't know what kind of flowers you like.""I like them all.""Yeah?""Yeah."He tries to hand them to me, but then remembers the cast. "I'll put them in water."Betty swoops in the room ridiculously fast and she grabs the flowers out of Nick's hands. "I'll take care of them. You lovebirds just sit on the couch and think swooning things at each other.”

“the PE teachers are into strudel," Issie says. '"I'm not sure why. It's so gooey." Gooey is good," Nick says. "Seriously?" I ask him. "You like strudel.""I like a lot of things that aren't good for me." He smiles slowly at me. My mouth must be hanging open because he starts laughing. "You made her blush!" Issie says. "Don't blush, Zara. He's just teasing.”

“A part of me does not want to think that I always knew something was wrong.=. This is probably the same part that didn't look at the evidence that was right before my eyes, and even though I know this, it does not stop me from defending the fairy tale.”