“How I wished sometimes that I could join him in his stark, right-angled world, where everything was either right or wrong and there was no doubt which was which. What unimaginable luxury, never to wrestle with whether or why, never to lie awake nights wondering what if.”

“Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, 'Where have I gone wrong'.Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.”

“She could not bear to look at him just now. If she did, she might well slap him again. Or cry. Or kiss him. And never know which was right and which was wrong and which was madness.”

“I lie awake for a long time, wondering which would be more foolish, to prepare for something that may never happen, or not to prepare for something that might.”

“I was not jealous of his intelligence — he is entirely superficial, which is why he never knows what to look like. Or what music to make. Or whether to be a boy or a girl.”

“In the real world, he and I could never work. I kissed him just that much harder and pushed all thoughts of why this was wrong to the back of my mind and surrendered to all the reasons it felt right.”