“Harper, I..."You don't have to say it."I don't?"I know."You know what?"I lean against him, nestling in the crook of his arm. I talk into his neck. I don't need to be able to see to find the parts of him I know.That morning in the trailer, when we had it to ourselves, and you made me breakfast, I wondered whether you would tell me you loved me, if you'd ever tell me, and I looked at you, and I thought you were going to say it, but instead you went off on a tangent about boysenberry jam."And?"And it was funny. And it was close enough to the real thing for me. Just sitting there with you like that."Boysenberry jam?"Boysenberry jam."Harper," he whispers into my hair.Yeah?"I boysenberry jam you.”

“But here's something that I know about friendship: Sometimes the right thing to do is to not point out that your friend hasn't touched her chicken fingers or French fries and not point that maybe she's just overreacting. Instead, you just smile and sit with her and say, "I understand" when really, you don't understand her at all.”

“Not exactly what I wanted, but you know what they say about getting what you want.""That you should want what you have instead?" I guessed."No! That's ridiculous advice. Jesus, who told you that? Never mind, don't even answer that. Just forget you ever heard it. They, and by 'they' I am referring to those who know what the hell they're talking about, say that you can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes..." He held out his hand for me to finish."You just might get what you need?"He shucked me under the chin and gave me his best cocky smile. "There's hope for you yet."He walked away from me with a determined swagger and didn't look back.”

“You don't have to lie to me to be nice, Jake. You can just say, 'Wow, your nails look crappy.'" I did my best boy voice."Well, I will tell you that's a crappy imitation of my voice." He smiled so wide I could see his eyetooth from across the table. "But you've got to know you're totally hot, chipped nails and all." He burned beet red all the way to the roots of his hair. "Man, you get me to say some embarrassing stuff, Brenna." He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck."Hey, don't blame me when you feel moved to make strange declarations.”

“The walls were coming down around me, but still, I couldn't imagine telling the truth. Not now. It was too late. How can I tell Mom and Dad what we'd done? It would ruin everything. It would ruin their image of me; it would ruin every thought they'd ever had about who I was. It would be another death.Another loss. Another miscarriage.”

“My brother, he says. My brother is dead."And again he asks me to kill him. One more time before he falls to his knees and sobs. And i get it. I do. Because i have a brother too.”

“But then I think about where knowing somebody has gotten me: nowhere. No. someplace worse than nowhere, because when you’re nowhere I’m pretty sure you feel nothing.”