“Where'd the dog go?" I ask, sounding panicky."That wasn't a dog, Zara," he says, words whisper strong.I jerk my head up. "What was it then? A cat? A gerbil? A geriatric hamster?”

“ And this time Zara White," he says, " this time it is my turn to rescue you." - Astley”

“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.”

“He likes you, Zara. He took care of you. That's what men do when they take a shine to you.”

“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.”

“Finally the bell rings and the teenage Pavlovian dogs mosve to the next kennel.”