“What is he?”“I can’t puzzle it out. He doesn’t have horns, pointed ears—or apparently a need to eat. He does have small fangs, but he also sports a tan line.”“You checked? Natalya, you durrrty bitch.”“Hey, I had to determine if he was a blood sucker or not. Now I don’t know what to think.”

“There was something I needed to say. “Sorry. About before.”Fang shot a sideways glance at me, his eyes dark and inscrutable, as always. He looked back out at the water. I didn’t expect any more acknowledgment than that. Fang never-“You almost gave me a heart attack,” he said quietly. “When I saw you, and all that blood . . .” He threw a small rock as hard as he could down the beach.“I’m sorry.”“Don’t do it again,” he said.I swallowed hard. “I won’t.”Something changed right then, but I didn’t know what.”

“I look up, and he’s searching my eyes, just like he did after kissing me for the first time in the rain. “What are you looking for?”He doesn’t answer.He doesn’t need to.I know what he wants.And it’s not fair.“Just because we’re the only two teenagers on this whole ship doesn’t mean I have to love you. Why can’t I have a choice? Options?”Elder steps back, stung.“Look, it’s not that I don’t like you,” I say quickly, reaching for him. He jerks away. “It’s just…”“Just what?” he growls.Just that if I was back on Earth instead of on this damn ship, if I had met Elder at school or at a club or on a blind date, if I had my choice between Elder and every other boy in the world…Would I love him then?Would he love me?Love without choice isn’t love at all.“Just that I don’t want to be with you just because there’s no one else.” [p.57-58]”

“I'm a vegetarian.You're a what?I don't eat meat.How can you not eat meat?I just don't.He says he does not eat meat.What?No meat?No meat.Steak?No...Chickens!No...And what about the sausage?No, no sausage, no meat!He says he does not eat any meat.Not even sausage?I know!What is wrong with him?What is wrong with you?Nothing, I just don't eat meat!”

“He keeps doing that.” “What?” She laughs. “Kissing your forehead.” “Yeah . . . he does.” I can’t stop my grin. “Does it bother you? I can hear your smile, you know.” “Not really. It doesn’t, like, mean anything. It’s just . . . it’s Ryker.”

“I have had my say, as he wished. Now the book belongs, as he points out, to the world he claims to speak for.”