“And I know it doesn't matter what I say now, because I fucked things up... just like I always do.""Trav?""Yeah?""Don't drive drunk on your bike anymore, okay?”

“I know you didn’t. And I know it doesn’t matter what I say now, because I fucked things up…just like I always do.”

“No," I shout, because my mother doesn't know what I like anymore. "I don't eat things that bleed. Just cheese with lettuce or tomato and mayo. No dead fish or animals, please.""You see what I have to put up with?" my mother says.”

“I love you, Trace. I always have. Just remember that, okay? Hold on to it. No matter what I say or what I do... and trust me, I'll do some terrible things. Just know. I love you. With every fiber of my being.”

“Yeah, but what does that even mean... heaven? Because see, I need to be able to put him somewhere, Zo. In my head, I mean. I need to be able to close my eyes and picture him and know he's okay. And just saying the word heaven doesn't help that much. Because like what is heaven, exactly? And where is it? And what do you do there?”

“He looked at me now."Remember I said, 'what if I didn't want to fix your bike?'"I remembered. "Yes...""I didn't want to fix it, because I liked driving you places.”