“I couldn’t have pulled it off if you hadn’t have pulled out all those years ago. So thanks, dad.”

“Can you take off your shirt?”I couldn’t see Rachel clearly on the other side of my truck’s cab. My eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the darkness of my secret make-out hideout. But I could hear herlaughing her ass off. “Not even for Sean.”“Well, we have to make it look good somehow. Do you mind if I take off mine? My dad says I look like sex on a stick with my shirt off.”“Knock yourself out.”I started to pull my shirt over my head. I was used to wearing T-shirts. When it wouldn’t give, I remembered I was wearing something Sean-like. As I unbuttoned it, Iasked, “Want to make a bet how long it takes him to get out here?”

“I may have no idea what I'm talking about," I said, a little ticked off now. "But we're all a part of a minority waiting for a majority to pull their heads out of their asses.”

“I have an impulse to write all over the orange walls- I need an alphabet of endings ripped out of books, of hands pulled off of clocks, of cold stones, of shoes filled with nothing but wind.”

“I never did thank you," Breeze said."For what, Lord Breeze?""For pulling me out of myself," Breeze said. "For forcing me to get up, a year ago, and keep going. Ifyou hadn't helped me, I don't know that I would ever have gotten over . . . what happened."Sazed nodded. On the inside, however, his thoughts were more bitter. Yes, you saw destruction anddeath, my friend. But the woman you love is still alive. I could have come back too, if I hadn't losther. I could have recovered, as you did.”

“That’s amazing. You’re five years younger than me and you’re the one giving me the much-needed advice. Thank you.”“Yeah, well in all honesty, I just pulled most that stuff out of my ass. But still, you’re welcome.”