“My favorite color is black because I love the night sky, black licorice, and I feel sorry for the color black because no one ever chooses it as their favorite.”

“I like colorful tales with black beginnings and stormy middles and cloudless blue-sky endings. But any story will do.”

“Finally, I say, “long dark hair, blue-violet eyes, slender, tall, she had a Liz Taylor in Black Beauty thing going on.” Reluctance sets in. Do I really want to put this together for him? “Like you,” he says. Pandora’s Box opens. Chocolate anyone? An abundance of heartbreak. Rare happiness. Plenty of self-destruction. Take your pick. Julia’s got everything in here.”

“Am I Carrie, now? I sway with the movement of the elevator. I close my eyes and try to think. I could never be Carrie. No one can. That’s the thing. Always. I could never be Carrie. I could never be Carrie. I could never be Carrie. I can feel the tears sting behind my eyes. I can never be Carrie. Now, I can’t even be Ellie.”

“My favorite color is rainbow.”

“My greatest fear? I’ll just stop breathing one day. My next greatest fear? That I no longer care.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not scared,” I say airily. “Are you ever?” “All the time. Normally. All the time.”