“There are so many layers inside of people, so much soul pain and angsty depth and heart hurt, and some ... hide all this so well that when it comes out in an action as simple as a nod, your entire world shifts a little bit on its axis.”

“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.”

“Pain shoots through my head. fireworks. explosions. all inside my brain. the white world goes dark and i know what's about to happen. i'm the one leaving. i am the one gone.”

“ Opening my eyes takes effort, but it's worth it to see him, right there in front of me. He's so beautiful,golden. It's so hokey, but it's how he is. He is warmth to me.”

“He motions to the glue brush. "Can I have some?"I start to grab it so I can pass it to him. He reaches for it at the same time. Our fingers touch, and the moment they do the fluorescent lights overhead flicker and then fizzle out.Everyone moans, even though we can all still see. There's enough light from the outside filtering in, just not enough for us to really focus on the finer details.Nick's fingers stroke mine lightly, so lightly that I'm almost not sure the touch is real. My insides flicker like the art room lights. They do not, however, fizzle. I turn my head to look him in the eye.He leans over and whispers, "It will be hard to be just your friend."The lights come back on."Just a little brownout." The art teacher smiles and holds out her arms. "Welcome to Maine, Zara. Land of a million power failures."Nick's breath touches my ear. "I heard you didn't drive to school. I'll bring you home after cross-country,okay?""Okay," I say, trying to be all calm, but what I really want to do is leap up and do a happy dance all over the art room. Nick is driving me home.”

“... we all need a little bit of rescuing from time to time. It doesn't make us weak.”

“Astley comes to my side. "Are you well?" "No," I tell him, voice hoarse. "I am not well. I am broken inside. I am broken almost all-the-way deep, and I don't know...I don't know if I can ever be unbroken, let alone well again”.”