“I'll come back to get you, too, okay?""Why?" he snapped."Because," she said with a gasp, unable to fathom the source of his question, or his tone. "Because I love you, that's why.”

“I told you you’d come," said a nearby voice, one Isobel knew well. "You said you would."(…)"You shouldn’t have, though," he said, and looked up, his face twisted with anger. "Even if we knew you would, you shouldn’t have." He got up and began moving toward her."Why," he growled, "when we will only show you we are not worth it? Why, when we have no other choice but to prove to you we’re not worth it?”

“Why couldn't she just come out and say she liked him?Maybe it was because she more than liked him.”

“Why the snap-crackle-pop didn't you call me?”

“You're really a blond," she said, her tone just short of accusatory."And if you tell anyone, I will come to you in the night and smote your everlasting soul.”

“He clutched the watch hard in his fist, determined to destroy it, to prove that it couldn't be real. That she hadn't come here because of him, for him.That he hadn't done what he knew he had.”

“She looked up from the tag. "Uh, news flash. Your friends hate me.""They don't know you," he said. Opening his door, he climbed out. He turned back, though, and leaned in on the door frame, peering at her. "Besides," he said, "you'd be with me.”