“I love this time of day,' Josh says-talking to me, he's talking to me!-and I try to think of the right thing to say. 'I love you' sounds a little intense for the conversation. 'Can we make out?' sounds like something Jackson would say, and even if I am thinking it, I never want to sound like Jackson. Ever. 'Me too,' is what I come up with. Brilliant, right?”

“I've got about ten things to say to you right now. But at least nine of them would make me sound like a psycho.”In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I nearly smiled. “What’s the tenth thing?” I asked his shirtfront. He paused, considering it. “Never mind,” he grumbled. “That one would make me sound like a psycho, too.”

“Nothing before you counts," he said. "And I can't even imagine an after." She shook her head. "Don't.""What?""Don't talk about after.""I just meant that... I want to be the last person who ever kisses you, too.... That sounds bad, like a death threat or something. What I'm trying to say is, you're it. This is it for me.”

“Too late I realized this sounded like a come-on. Yeah,Hayden, he would say,I want you to show me some-wink-stretches!-nudge nudge.”

“I'm going out,” I said.I loved the way that sounded. It was just like what the heroes say in war movies right before they hurl themselves out of the plane. I felt like I should wink and say something like, “See you around, guys” and be really cool about it – but who was I kidding? I wasn't cool. I'd just sound like an idiot.”

“By now, you know everything about Jackson Clarke, probably way more than anyone on earth wants to hear. This is all I have to add: I still think about him every day. When I see him, my heart jumps up in my chest. I long for him to talk to me, and whenever he even says hello, I feel a thousand times worse than I did before. I wish he was dead. I wish he still liked me.”