“I feel like I'm taking beefcake shots for a calender," J said."Yeah there's a huge market for topless tranny academics. Right up there with the firemen.”

“How about you, Mockingjay? You feel totally safe?” “Oh, yeah. Right up until I got shot,” I say.”

“Cole, for Christ's sake, will you stop staring at me like I'm beefcake of the month?”

“Well, it's New Year's now but I don't feel that way anymore. I wonder if you do either. Something's happening to me. It's like I'm shrinking smaller and smaller and I can't stp it. There's just os much wrong that I can't imagine the shame in admitting even the tiniest part of it. When you left it was like there was this huge gap to fill, but instead of spreading wide enough to do it I just fell right in, and I'm still falling. Like I'm half-asleep, and I can't wake up, can't wake up....”

“There's no reason to think things are going to change just because the calender does...”

“I've never been shot, but this probably what it feels like, that second of nothingness right before the pain catches up to the bullet.”