“As our kissing progresses, I don’t care that our tryst seems raunchy and wrong. I don’t care that I’m at school, in the boy’s bathroom. I don’t care that to most people this would seem cheap, dirty, and despicable. The only thing I can think about while he kisses me deeper, harder, faster, is that Henry Garner is the plague and the only thing I want him to do is infect me.”

“He doesn't care that I cuss like a trucker. He doesn't care that I hate dressing up. Or that I don't look like someone who stepped off the cover of some fashion magazine. Adam would never want me to be something I'm not for his sake. Now I know without a doubt that I love him because of that.”

“That’s what you don’t get, Hadlee. You’re saving me too. Every second I spend with you, you save me a little more. When I’m around you, I want to better myself. I want to be a better man.”

“Maybe I’m stupid. Maybe I’m just as evil as he is by keeping my mouth shut. But he told me once that I was different. And I can’t help but hope that me being different is the one thing in this world that can save him from what he fears the most…Himself.”

“My hands are in his hair and his arms wrap around my waist tighter. I know what Henry does to me. I’m space bound. A rocket about to blast off. And I want Henry to send me to the moon.”

“Don’t you think I’m just as fucked up as you are? I might even be worse.” He pulls me closer and tightens his grip around me. “All I know is that you, Hadlee Flax, are different than any other girl I’ve ever met and I’m willing to give this my all. Yes, we’ve both got issues. We’re both mentally and emotionally fucked up. But I’ve got this theory that we just might be what each other needs to make it through our broken and fucked up lives and live to see the next day.”

“I would have, Damien! I would have! I would have rather died a thousand painful, torturous deaths than watch you die one! I would have given up anything to go back to that day and relive it!” Damien takes a step back as I run shaky fingers through my hair. I lower my voice and cry, “When you died, I thought I lost everything. I was empty. Numb inside. And the pain...the pain of feeling my heart break over and over again was never ending. I'm sorry about what happened. I think you know that. But what I think you know more than anything is you haunting me and reminding me of what you sacrificed is the most mean-spirited thing you've ever done.” More tears well in my eyes, and I suck them back trying to be strong. “The Damien, I knew wouldn't want this for me. He wouldn't want me to live the rest of my life, loving his ghost.My Damien was too proud, good, and selfless for that.” The one thing that I forgot was that in this dream, this is not my Damien. He's a sinister, sick, and twisted version of the boy I loved. And I know this when he lunges at me, wraps both of his hands around my neck, cuts off the air in my throat, and whispers in a deadly voice, “Love me.” “No!” I bolt upright in my bed choking on air. “No!” I try to steady my breathing, but I'm too shaken up to concentrate”