“Charlotte is a prism for my life. Without her, my existence looks pale and bleak and somewhere near the middle of the suck-meter. But around her, I see clearly that my life isn’t made up of anything mediocre, but instead is some combination of the amazing and the dreadful— my brother who adores me, my parents who want what’s best for me, my brother who’s dying, my parents who won’t understand me. It’s not gray at all; it’s too painfully colorful and fantastic and awful for me to see without her help.”

“It's been about six months since I've had something in a cast. Kids at school laugh and call me a klutz. This girl Charlotte carries my books. My parents are baffled. Will cries. Jesse keeps getting sick.You're broken, and you're fixed.And you're better,”

“I guess I haven't made it clear how I feel about Charlotte. Well, she puts my heart in a microwave and watches as it warms up and explodes. When I'm around her, my blood runs hot and thick. It's beautiful.You could say there's nothing special about her. You could make the case.But, really, she's special because nobody else can do the microwave thing.”

“My life is just something that happened to me.”

“My eyes are darting to all the places my magazines are hidden. I feel like an idiot sometimes for having printed evidence. My friends look at stuff on their phones like it's their job. Don't get me wrong, I've looked, and there's some alright stuff online, but I prefer the magazines. I guess I'm a retro sort of man. Call me classy.”

“Shit, boy. Look at me. Do they have me right now? Are you tying me up and hitting me and... whatever? Did you trap me?""I..." I shake my head."And do I look free?”

“If this were a fairy tale, this would be the part where the fishboy appears and Diana shoots him through the heart. Because he is a tragic hero, he's our fucking Gatsby, and he lived for his fish and he has to die for his fish. He would never let my fake authority, condoning his abandonment, making up rules about what's okay just to save his life, convince him to give up his family. He would never leave.He would know that without him, none of us will be as good. Me, without a friend; and the fish, without a brother; and the island, without a story; and Diana, without her something real, we will all be a little bit less than we were before we knew him.So he wouldn't leave. Not until I could come with him. And I have never been less able to leave than I am now.But this isn't a fairy tale, and he doesn't appear. We stand here for a long time.He really left.Because it was all that we could do.”