“Then he smiles at me and my heart starts beating harder, which I'm ashamed to admit, but it's true. Hearts betray you like that. This is why it's perfectly acceptable to be cardiophobic, afraid of hearts.”
“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.”
“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.”
“A tiny part of my heart is so happy to see him safe and laughing, but the other part is a black pit that threatens to suck all of me into it. He is happy without me. He is laughing without me. But what about me?”
“I crumple on my bed. For a second, i believed that what i wanted more than anything in the world had come true. For a second, i believed that my dad was back. but he isn't. He's gone again. he's really truly gone and i know it. i know i'll never see him again no matter how much i want to. The candle in me has blown out and i'm afraid, really, really afraid, because my biggest fear is true. i have to live my life without my dad, my running partner, the guy who taught me amnesty and sang john lennon songs really off key.”
“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.”
“What?""That's sweet."I am sweet. My heart flip-flops and I bite my lip a little bit. Sweet as in a lollipop, or sweet as in a girl you wold like to kiss passionately in the stacks? That's the question.”