“Singling out “women’s fiction” for genre derision never fails to piss me off. Somehow worse when women do it. Case in pt: Editor says crowd-sourcing editorial for romance & erotica not bad idea b/c “no great artistry at stake” Yes, genre fiction not high art. But it’s a craft we take seriously, writing for love of storytelling, not writing whatever sells.”

“Whatever it is," I said, "the point is moot because as long as I'm on these pills, I can't make contact to ask."Derek ... snapped, "Then you need to stop taking the pills."Love to. If I could. But after what happened last night, they're giving me urine tests now."Ugh. That's harsh." Simon went quiet, then snapped his fingers.Hey, I've got an idea. It's kinda gross, but what if you take the pills, crush them and mix them with your, you know, urine."Derek stared at him.What?"You did pass chem last year, didn't you?"Simon flipped him the finger. "Okay, genius, what's your idea?"I'll think about it. ..."***Here," Derek whispered, pressing an empty Mason jar into my hand. He'd pulled me aside after class and we were now standing at the base of the boy's staircase. "Take this up to your room and hide it."It's a ... jar."He grunted, exasperated that I was so dense I failed to see the critical importance of hiding an empty Mason jar in my room.It's for your urine."My what?"He rolled his eyes, a growl-like sound sliding through his teeth ashe leaned down, closer to my ear. "Urine. Pee. Whatever. For the testing."I lifted the jar to eye level. "I think they'll give me somethingsmaller."...You took your meds today, right?" he whispered.I nodded.Then use this jar to save it."Save . . . ?"Your urine. If you give them some of today's tomorrow, it'll seem like you're still taking your meds."You want me to . . . dole it out? Into specimen jars?"Got a better idea?"Um, no, but ..." I lifted the jar and stared into it.Oh, for God's sake. Save your piss. Don't save your piss. It's all the same to me."Simon peeked around the corner, brows lifted. "I was going to ask what you guys were doing, but hearing that, I think I'll pass.”

“I love that woman. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. I'll do whatever it takes to see that happen. Do you get that?”

“You took your meds today, right?" he whispered. I nodded. Then use this jar to save it." Save . . . ?" Your urine. If you give them some of today's tomorrow, it'll seem like you're still taking your meds." You want me to . . . dole it out? Into specimen jars?" Got a better idea?" Um, no, but ..." I lifted the jar and stared into it. Oh, for God's sake. Save your piss. Don't save your piss. It's all the same to me." Simon peeked around the corner, brows lifted. "I was going to ask what you guys were doing, but hearing that, I think I'll pass.”

“Oh, for God's sake. Save your piss. Don't save your piss. It's all the same to me.”

“It reminded me of what Dad said after every snail’s crawl home fromAlbany when snow hit.“It’s New York, people. It’s winter. We get snow. If you aren’t preparedto deal with it, move to Miami.”

“I just... I understand you might want to start dating more seriously, and that means dating someone from town. But if you're going to do that..." This time he took a long drink of coffee, and the mug was still at his lips when he said, "I like Daniel. He takes care of you."I blinked. "Oh my God. Did you really just say that? He takes care of me?"Dad flushed. "I didn't mean it like-""Takes care of me? Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?" I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. "Ack! I can't go to school like this. Where's my corset? My bonnet?”