“The cell phone in my pocket went off. Shit! Damn it! Why do I carry these infernal gadgets? Why does anybody in their right mind need to constantly be on call?”

“Why, the little Voice inside my head, of course. You mean you don't have one? I did.”

“Then I went to bed and cried into my pillow. I wasn't sad, not at all. It was just so beautiful to have an intense feeling and the right words at the same time.What are we but our stories?”

“People Trust Me with their secrets, and I'm not sure why. It must be something in my face, probably my eyes.”

“Hello, Max," he said quietly, searching my face. "How do you feel?"Which was a ten on the "imbecilic question" scale of one to ten. Why, I feel fine, Jeb," I said brightly. "How about you?"Any nausea? Headache?" Yep. And it's standing here talking to me.”

“What are they teaching these thugs?-Why are there so many of them?-What is the Institute for Higher Aeronautics?-How many of the are there? There are only six of us! Why?-Why is DC public transportation so weird?-Why don't we mug those Eraser goons for money more often?-Fang's Blog”

“Max, you can change your mind.” His voice was like autumn leaves droppinglightly onto the ground.“I don’t know how.”Then my throat felt tight, and I rubbed my fists against my eyes. I droppedmy face onto my arms, crossed over my knees. This sucked! I wanted to be backwith the oth-Fang’s hand gently smoothed my hair off my neck. My breath froze in mychest, and every sense seemed hyperalert. His hand stroked my hair again, sosoftly, and then trailed across my neck and shoulder and down my back, makingme shiver.I looked up. “What the heck are you doing?”“Helping you change your mind,” he whispered, and then he leaned over,tilted my chin up, and kissed me.”