“His name is Christian,” he calls back. “Can you believe that? We came all this wayso Clara could save a guy named Christian.”“I’m aware of the irony.”

“Clara's mother: Yes, and what could possible be more important to your life right now than Christian? Clara: I'm going out with Tucker.”

“Clara," he says, my name sounding different somehow when it passes through his lips. "I'll miss you.”

“Tonight I want us to simply be Christian and Clara, two college students on a date.”

“Have a care, Sir Tucker, lest you find yourself in the stockades."He scoffs and looks at Mr. Erikson. "She can't do that, can she? She's not the ruler of this class. Brady is."..."You could strip him of his title," suggests Brady, apparently not minding at all that I have usurped his throne. "Make him a serf.""Yeah," says Christian. "Make him a serf. Being a serf blows."As a serf, poor Christian has already been killed several times in our class. Aside from dying of the Black Plague on the first day, he's starved to death, had his hands cut off for stealing a loaf of bread, and been run down by his master's horse just for kicks. He's like Christian the fifth now.”

“So did you really mean all that stuff you said when I was a dead man?""Every word.""Could you say it again?" he asks. "My memory's a little fuzzy.""Which part?" The part where I said I wanted to stay with you forever?""Yeah," he murmurs, his face close to mine, his breath hot on my cheek."When I said that I love you?"He pulls back a little, searches my eyes with his. "Yes. Say it.""I love you."He takes a deep, happy breath. "I love you," he says back. "I love you, Clara."Then his gaze drops to my lips again, and he leans in, and the rest of the world simply goes away.”

“What do you see in a guy like Christian Prescott?" he asked me that night when he dropped me off from prom. And what he was really saying then, what would have come through loud and clear if I hadn't been so blind was, why don't you see me?”