“Do you think the ability to sleep in counts as a special skill?” I asked Dad, trying to sound torn over the decision.“Yes, list that. And don’t forget to write that you can eat an entire meal in under five minutes,” he replied. I laughed. It was true; I did tend to inhale my food.“Oh, the both of you! Why don’t you just write down that you’re an absolute heathen!” My mother went storming from the room.”

“Livia, I’ve imposed enough. I don’t need to take any more of your food.”Livia shook her head as well. “Yes. Yes, you do. You really do. I need to see you eat until you’re full. That will be a gift to me. A pleasure for me. Be full—that’s all I ask in return for making you this meal.”

“He’s sorry, Chloe. He really is a sweet guy. Don’t be a bitch about this. And don’t screw it up. Just go over there. Give him a chance and, in no time, you’ll forget everything else.And that’s exactly why I stayed in my chair. I didn’t want to forget everything else, or the next thing I knew, he’d be back on that roof, putting his life in danger.“You don’t get to do this,” I said finally.“Do what?” He asked the question innocently enough, but his gaze dipped slightly. “I”m sorry. That’s what I’m trying to say, Chloe. That I’m sorry.”“For what?”He looked up, confused. “Making you mad.”I didn’t answer, just got up to leave. I made it as far as the door. Then he was there, behind me, hand on my elbow. I didn’t look back at him. I didn’t dare. But I stopped and I listened.“When I got mad about you leaving,” he said, “it wasn’t because I thought it was stupid or I didn’t think you’d be careful.”“You were just worried about me.”An exhale, relieved that I understood. “Yeah.”I turned. “Because you think I’m worth it.”He put his fingers under my chin. “I absolutely think you’re worth it.”“But you don’t think you are.”His mouth opened. Shut.“That’s what this is about, Derek. You won’t let us worry about you because you don’t think you’re worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.”

“I eat fog soup (out of a can). You don’t think I make it fresh, do you? You don’t need a spoon or straw to enjoy it—you need a pipe to inhale it.”

“Why did he write to her, “I can’t live without you?” And why did she write to him “I can’t live without you?” For he went west and she went east and they both lived.”

“You are afraid of me?” Reed asks me, sounding unpleasantly surprised.“Of course I’m afraid of you. You’re menacing, you’re overbearing, you’re arrogant, and if you don’t see that, then you can just add high to the list,” I say, using my fingers to tick off his shortcomings.”