“So what did you want to talk to Wesley about?" he asked me."Kelly likes him," I said. "So I figured while we were discussing Lady Macbeth's insanity and Duncan's murder, I could, you know, casually find out if he likes her too."Colton didn't blink. "He likes her.""He does? How do you know?"He shrugged like it was a silly question. "We talk sometimes. He told me on the drive over he hoped she would be here.""Then why hasn't he ever asked her out?""He's shy. And we're in the middle of wrestling season, midterms, and Christmas." Colton picked up the liter of soda. "Have a little patience."I reached for the bowl of popcorn, but didn't start out of the kitchen yet. "Well can I hurry him along? Is there any chance he'll ask her out before this weekend?"Colton shook his head at me, then walked toward the living room. "You're not quite grasping the nature of patience, Charlotte.”

“Isn't that the guy you asked me to throw soda on?"Colton's head jerked up. He stared first at Reece, then at me. "You asked him to throw soda on me?""Of course not. The boy is delirious, That's what happens to children when they're malnourished. They start hallucinating." I put my hand against Reese's forehead as though checking for a temperature. "I'm afraid he has a serious case of it."Colton folded his arms and continued to glare at me. "No, Charlotte, you have a serious case of it, and I'm not talking about malnourishment."Reese stepped away from my temperature check and toward Colton. "She said you wouldn't melt like the Wicked Witch of the West, but you might fizz a little." Reese turned back to me. "He never did fizz.""I'm about to," Colton said. "Just watch for a few more seconds.”

“Hey Charlotte," Julianne yelled. "Hell must have frozen over!" And then in a quieter voice she added, "Charlotte was hoping it would.""What?" Colton asked.I sprinted the rest of the way to the door. As I rounded the corner I saw both Wesley and Colton in the entryway. Julianne stood in front of them transfixed, staring up at Colton with adoring eyes."Julianne, it's time for you to go to your room," I said. "Right now.""Do you really know the devil?" she asked Colton. "Have you ever been to hell?""Sometimes I think I have," he answered, glaring at me.”

“Carter: "Dude, I don't know why it works, it just does. [...] Just pretend you're not into 'em and then ask a question. What's the worst that could happen?"EJ makes eye contact with the smallest one, off to the side. [...]She looks up at EJ and gives him the nicest smile. He pulls the trigger and yells, "You think you're hot stuff, don't you?"What the...? Where are you going with this?"Excuse me?" she replies, kind of sweetly.EJ asks, "You think you're cool, don't you? Where did you get that shirt, the Salvation Army? What the hell is with your hair?My eyes are as big as basketballs as he fires one mean-ass question after another at her."You don't have a boyfriend, do you?" he continues.It's like he's armed with self-esteem killer."Did your parents have any kids that lived?" EJ asks.The girls starts to buckle, and tears are on the way."Are these your friends, or are they like, counselors here to observe you?" EJ shouts. [...]He asks, "Does your grandma know you borrowed her shoes?" as I drag him away. The girl is crying pretty hard, and her friends are trying to console her. [...]"Man, that didn't do very well. What do you think I did wrong?" EJ asks."Are you serious?" I ask"I was just doing what you told me to," he replies."I-I-I told you to go up to that girl and start abusing her?" I ask."You said to ask her questions and pretend I didn't like her!" he yells back."Pretend YOU'RE NOT INTO HER!" I clarify. "Not that you hate her and wish she would die! Good God, that girl thought she was gonna get a boyfriend when you walked up, not years of therapy.""Do you think I still have a shot?" he asks"NO, I don't!" I bark”

“Yeah whatever," Andrew said impatiently. "He came back to the room that night and kept talking about this girl he'd seen at the stargazing. He was shy, and so I told him if he pointed you out, I'd try to finagle a meeting." I swear, Andrew's the only person in the world who could use a word like finagle with a straight face. "But he was talking about me," I said. Andrew shrugged. "When we figured it out, we had a good laugh about it," he said defensively. "But of course you were my girlfriend. So that was that.”

“Sometimes Sarah would be up and about and when she saw Pete she would let something slip.He would walk into the kitchen to say hello and she would say, ‘Do you think whoever has him knows that he likes to read about space? Do you think they know he loves pasta but hates corn?’They were random questions. Pete tried to answer at first but then he realised that Sarah wasn’t really talking to him. She was simply voicing out loud the questions that went through her head every day, all day, tormenting her. 'Do they know he likes Vegemite toast for breakfast?’‘Do they know how he likes his scrambled eggs?’‘Are they making sure he has his milk every day?’‘Are they keeping him warm?’‘Are they being kind to him?’‘Is he going to school?’‘Do they know he hates to be tickled?’‘Are they hurting him? Are they hurting my little boy?’What could he say to that? Pete said nothing. He hung his head and waited for her to stop asking questions.”