“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.”

“ I just think about how saying that you love someone can make your heart feel like some sort of brownie sundae, warm, gooey, sweet and good.”

“I stare up at Nick. "You're late.".... "I had things to take care of," he says, all growly, looking away from me and staring Ian down. They do the whole I'm alpha - No, I'm alpha thing, with the staring and pulling the shoulders back and posturing.Devyn whispers to Issie, loud enough for us to hear. "They're so sad sometimes."She whispers back, "I know.”

“Oh my God! Issie's a bunny, isn't she? Do they have those? Do they have werebunnies?""Big leap there,Zare." Nick cracks up. He shakes with laughter.I pout. "She'd be a good bunny.""True.But it's not her.It's Devyn.""Devyn? Devyn is cute and normal."He scrapes at the bottom of the hash pan. His voice comes out dead calm. "He's an eagle.""Oh.Okay.I am not going to freak out about this, but let me say that I am surprised.""Because he's in a wheelchair?""No! Because he's a bird.”

“Take her home."Nick fake salutes. "Sir,yes sir.""Sarcasm doesn't become you,Colt," Coach Walsh says,but he smiles when he says it, so obviously he is only mad at me,not superboy Nick Colt,beloved of coaches everywhere. If I were a guy he would let me run tomorrow.”

“Issie?“After a second her voice comes out small and tired. “I'm not here.““Oh.“ I back up so I can stare at the bathroom door. No feet. “Then I should probably freak out because the toilet is talking back to me, huh? A little too many pain meds for Zara today.”

“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.”