“Tell me why.” My voice shook. “Tell me right now.”

“You don’t have to tell me why, if you tell me why you won’t tell me why. Or at the very least tell me why you won’t tell me why you won’t tell me why.”

“Was that you just inadvertently telling me to stay away from you?" "No," he answered, meeting my eyes. "That was me telling you directly to listen to your gut and what it's screaming at you right now.”

“Then she turns to me. 'Tell me. How are you really?' she says, as if there were two versions of my life, and now she is not on the verge of tears at all, but sharp-voiced as an interrogator.”

“Tell me what's going on here. Why can I hear your voice inside my head and why did you say you came to school for me?""I was tired of admiring your legs from a distance.”

“I'd arrived already except for this voice in my ear telling me to Quit!”