“Then we were quiet. Quiet isn’t easy. Especially with virtual strangers. They say that nature hates a vacuum, and so it’s kind of natural to want to fill up a human silence with words—any kind of lame words. But there was such a feeling of space around us that my first self-conscious word died long before I ever felt it on my tongue.”

“And then I did the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. “They’re not here,” I said. I knew, as the words left my mouth, that I had just made a deep mistake.”

“It’s not easy to love someone, but really, really not want anything of what they are to rub off on you.”

“She wants me to cut through all the sweetness and light in my head,” I said, “so I can see the truth.” “Which is?” Tommy asked, not turning around. “That nothing is what it seems to be.”

“He laughed, looking down into his empty cup. “Decent people don’t expect that kind of twistedness.” He put the cup down on the floor. “And if they ever did suspect it, they’d just blame themselves for thinking too mean. You should trust your disquiet the next time. That’s what it’s there for. A man like that gets where he is by seeming. And then he makes you feel obligated to him. It’s an old trick.”

“I? Why hadn’t I trusted myself? Because I’d trusted the woman across the street instead, that’s why. That grown up. That Assistant Principal. So in a way, it had been my fault. But in another way, not. But no matter whose fault it was, I still had bruises on my arms. And now, memories I didn’t want.”

“Why would I assume that the guy wanted to hurt me when nobody’s ever tried to hurt me before?”