“ "You’re the first girl I’ve met around here who’s real, and who cares about things and likes to do things. But half the time, you decide the conversation’s over in mid-sentence and take off. Or you ignore me when we’re at school and other people are around, and you tell your cousin that there’s nothing going on between us and that you’re not interested me at all.""Me? What about you?""What about me?""You’re the master of saying one word and disappearing. And you have all these things that you care about, like Bea and Oliver and surfing and acting, but most people would never know that. Your father thinks you can’t wait to be a banker and all your friends think you don’t care about anything. And meanwhile you’ve gone from a person who acted like he cared about me to a professional bodyguard doing a favor for my aunt. I mean, what is the whole Secret Service act about?”His jaw was clenched. “I don’t want anything to you.”“Nothing’s happened to me.”“Oh, like when you got hit by a car?”“It didn’t hit me.”“But I should have been there. I got caught up, talking to Mr. Dudley, and I was late, and I let you stand out there all alone.”“Quinn, that makes no sense.”“I just don’t want it to happen again.”“What don’t you want to happen?”“I don’t want anyone I care about to get hurt on my watch.”That shut us both up. We were silent for a while, each looking out our respective windows as we sped along the highway. And then I figured it out. “This is about your mom, isn’t it?”He just sort of shrugged. And then he said, “Probably.”I moved closer and leaned into him. After a moment he put his arm around my shoulder. And we just stayed like that, not talking, the rest of the way to the airport.”

“The way I feel about you . . . it’s crazy.”“You got the crazy part right,” she snapped, pulling away from me.“I practiced this in my head the whole time we were on the bike, so just hear me out.”“Travis—”“I know we’re fucked-up, all right? I’m impulsive and hot tempered, and you get under my skin like no one else. You act like you hate me one minute, and then you need me the next. I never get anything right, and I don’t deserve you . . . but I fucking love you, Abby. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything, ever. When you’re around, I don’t need booze or money or the fighting or the one-night stands . . . all I need is you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I dream about. You’re all I want.”

“I want a soul mate who can sit me down, shut me up, tell me ten things I don’t already know, and make me laugh. I don’t care what you look like, just turn me on. And if you can do that, I will follow you on bloody stumps through the snow. I will nibble your mukluks with my own teeth. I will do your windows. I will care about your feelings. Just have something in there.”

“He looked at me intently before speaking. “Why do you do that?”I frowned at him. “Do what?”“Push everyone away.” Danny told me simply.I was a little stunned and when I didn’t say anything, Danny continued on.“Darcie, what are you so afraid of? Why do you shut people out?” He looked at me searchingly.“Because it’s easier that way!” I yelled at him suddenly and he looked taken aback. I took a deep breath to calm down and added, “And I don’t like feeling vulnerable.” Danny stared at me. “Being vulnerable is nothing to be ashamed of Darcie …it’s what makes us human.”I shook my head furiously. “No! Being vulnerable makes you weak – just like every other emotion … if you allow yourself to care, you only end up getting hurt.”Danny threw me a consoling look. “But there’s nothing wrong with caring –”“No!” I interrupted angrily. “I don’t want to care! You only end up getting hurt … and it hurts so bad that you can’t breathe. I don’t want to feel like that. I don’t want to feel at all! It’s just easier to shut everyone out … if you don’t care about them – you won’t get hurt!”

“I don’t know what came over me. You were in my arms, crying and when I looked down at you I just couldn’t stop myself. It was like someuncontrollable force I just had to kiss you Layla. I know you’re mad and I’m sorry that you feel that way but honestly Layla? It was wonderful. And I’ddo it again in a heartbeat. I’m crazy about you. I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, the only thing I thinkabout all day and the last thing I think about at night. You’re my muse. I must have written at least twenty new songs since I met you and they’re allabout you. Your eyes, your smile the way you laugh and the way you make my heart want to tear its way out of my chest when you’re near me. I can’tfight it any more, it’s killing me. I’ve tried to forget it, to get over you but no other girl even compares. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“But what I don’t like — and what I don’t think either Seymour or Buddy would like, either, as a matter of fact — is the way you talk about all these people. I mean you don’t just despise what they represent — you despise them. It’s too damn personal, Franny. I mean it. You get a real little homicidal glint in your eye when you talk about this Tupper, for instance. All this business about his going into the men’s room to muss his hair before he comes in to class. All that. He probably does — it goes with everything else you’ve told me about him. I’m not saying it doesn’t. But it’s none of your business, buddy, what he does with his hair. It would be all right, in a way, if you thought his personal affectations were sort of funny. Or if you felt a tiny bit sorry for him for being insecure enough to give himself a little pathetic goddam glamour. But when you tell me about it — and I’m not fooling, now — you tell me about it as though his hair was a goddamn personal enemy of yours. That is not right — and you know it. If you’re going to to war against the System, just do your shooting like a nice, intelligent girl — because the enemy’s there, and not because you don’t like his hairdo or his goddam necktie.”