“I Won’t Fly TodayToo much to do, despite the snow,which made all local schools closetheir doors. What a winter! Usually,I love watching the white stuff fall.But after a month with only shortrespites, I keep hoping for a criticalblue sky. Instead, amazing wavesof silvery clouds sweep over the crestof the Sierra, open their obesebellies, and release foot upon footof crisp new powder. The skiresorts would be happy, exceptthe roads are so hard to travelthat people are staying home.So it kind of boggles the mindthat three guys are laying carpetin the living room. Just goes toshow the power of money. In lessthan an hour, the stain Conner lefton the hardwood will be a ghost.”

“When People AskHow he’s doing now, I haveno idea what to say except for,“Better.” I don’t know if that’strue, or what goes on in a placelike Aspen Springs, not that any-one knows he’s there, thank God.He has dropped off most people’sradar, although that’s kind of odd.Before he took this unbelievableturn, Conner was top rung on oursocial ladder. But with his crashand burn no longer news of the day,all but a gossipy few have quittrying to fill in the blanks.One exception is Kendra, whofor some idiotic reason stillloves him and keeps asking abouthim, despite the horrible way hedumped her. Kendra may be pretty,but she’s not especially bright.”

“When I was little, my friends would gush over wedding gowns and honeymoons. But I saw too many people flush decades together down the toilet over money or kids or meaningless flings. My own parents chose to stay married, which I think is rather funny, since they show about as much affection for each other as pit bulls in a ring. Tying the knot means slipping a noose around love and choking it to death.”

“The StainThat Conner left on our lives willnot vanish as easily. I don’t careabout Mom and her birds.Their estimation of my brotherdoesn’t bother me at all. Neitherdo I worry about Dad andwhat his lobbyist buddies think.His political clout has not diminished.As twins go, Conner and I don’t sharea deep affection, but we do havea nine-months-in-the-same-wombconnection. Not to mentiona crowd of mutual friends. God,I’ll never forget going to schoolthe day after that ugly scene.The plan was to sever the gossipgrapevine from the start withan obvious explanation—accident. Mom’s orders wereclear. Conner’s reputationwas to be protected at all costs.When I arrived, the rumorshad already started, thanksto our neighbor, Bobby Duvall.Conner Sykes got hurt.Conner Sykes was shot.Conner Sykes is in the hospital.Is Conner Sykes, like, dead?I fielded every single questionwith the agreed fabrication.But eventually, I was forced toconcede that, though his woundswould heal, he was not comingback to school right away.Conner Sykes wasn’t dead.But he wasn’t exactly “okay.”

“Even without them touching me, I feel dirty about what I do. Alex does even filthier things but says it all washes off with soap. I don’t believe that. I think it all leaves stains. Indelible stains.”

“PerfectionI've lived with the pretenseof perfection for seventeenyears. Give my room a cursoryinspection, you'd think I have OCD.But it's only habit and notobsession that keeps it all orderly.Of course, I don't want to givethe impression that it's all up to me.”

“It's just so hard to feel good, you know?" I do know. And more than that, it's just so incredibly hard to feel.”