“people always let you down. It was just part of the human condition. Look at Kat and Callie. One had tried to kill me; the other had almost gotten me killed. Neither intentionally, but did it matter? My mother never meant to hurt me and she'd all but ruined my life. It didn't matter what people meant, it mattered what they did.”

“What was that bit about fish sticks?” he asked, climbing back into the SUV.“Oh, pretty clever of her actually, though I thought it ridiculous at the time. Sometimes Mom gets paranoid, thinks people might be out to get her, out to get me.” I laughed nervously at how close that hit to home. “Anyway, one night she was really freaked out and came up with a code. If I was everkidnapped or something, she would say something about me liking fish sticks. If I said I wanted fish sticks, that meant I was in danger and needed help, no matter what else I’d said to her that I was fine.” “So by you saying you hate fish sticks…”“She knows I’m fine and she doesn’t need to further involve the police. Who says bipolar disorder can’t be useful?”

“If I could have, I would have erased the entire night from my memory. I felt changed, soiled by the brutality of all I witnessed. Something had finally replaced teenage girls on my list of things most heinous, and I didn't even know what to call it.”

“Taren and I followed her gaze to the body lying on the floor. The most romantic kiss of my life had just taken place next to a corpse.”

“I didn't want to wear the bra I'd discarded last night;it was filthy and reeked of perspiration. Not that I was pleased my breasts could be kept under control by such a thin sheath of fabric, but it did have its advantages.”

“He gave the tiniest of smiles and it made me want to think of ways to see it more often.”

“I'd had enough of being awake.”