“Sometimes I get lucky and we have real meal…like Hot Pockets.”

“He taught me to cry, to love, to forgive. He taught me that sometimes truths are complicated, woven deeper than we could ever imagine. He taught me to let go. To hold on. And that what's real... is all that will ever matter.”

“What’s wrong with that is that it’s not how the realworld works. That’s why, sometimes, it’s good to beflexible. When you don’t get what you want, you makeother plans.”

“Maybe I can stalk you again sometime.” “Absolutely.”

“You know,” he says, peeking inside the bag. “It’s okay. Because ham and cheese is my absolute favorite…and an apple? It’s like, the lunch of champions.” I stifle another yawn. “It doesn’t get much better than that, right?” “Only if you were eating with me,” he says.”

“Once I started I couldn’t put it down. It was so addictive . . . like a train wreck.”

“I'm all for getting trashed," I confess."I'm sure you are, except I'll clue you in on a little something: when it's over, your problems still exist.”