“Maybe, he thinks, as he’s riding on through the snow, maybe this is why she’s leaving. Maybeshe fell in love with me when we were kids. And now: and now: and now: we’re not kids anymore.”

“Scarlet . . .” Silas begins in a serious tone. He started using “the tone” when we were kids to remind me that he’s older than I am. It annoys me just as much now as it did then, only now it’s less acceptable for me to push him into the mud for it.”

“Maybe he's just... craving the meatloaf?"Dani hops off the counter and gives me the once over. "Craving the meatloaf? Is that what the kids are calling it now?”

“Listen, Elena, after high school I left and I had a lot ofrelationships and nothing seemed right to me. But I rememberedyou often. You can say that we were kids back then and that thatwas kids’ stuff... and maybe it was. But now, when I am not a childanymore, there isn’t a doubt in me that it simply has to be you or noone else. I don’t want you to be the one that got away, at least notwithout a fight.”

“Okay, why don't we practice your talking with Marguerite? OUT LOUD. I'll be her."Julius stared at him blankly. "Now?""No, I was thinking maybe next April. Then you could maybe give her a call, arrange a date..."He arched his eyebrow in question, and snapped, "Yes, NOW.”

“When I was in the second grade, I used to think love was the feeling a man gets while riding a motorcycle and having a woman embrace him tightly from behind. Maybe I’m cynical now, but I’m starting to think love is a unicycle with a flat tire.”