“it's a kiss full of promise, of trust and of all that is magic.”

“We sit there, our eyes locked on one another, for several seconds. I know in my heart we're both thinking the same thing. Jacob leans forward over the candle, the shadow of the flame dancing against his bottom lip. I lean forward to meet him as well. It's a kiss full of promise, of trust, and of all that is magic.”

“After Ben leaves, I head back upstairs to my room, only to find Dad in the kitchen. He has his back toward me, sneaking a bag of Bugles from one of the baskets above the cabinets.“Caught you,” I say, switching on the light, making him jump.“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he asks, keeping his voice low.“Shouldn’t you?” I give him a pointed look.“Probably, but your mom actually feel asleep tonight—probably the first night all week. Meanwhile, I’m too hungry to nod off.”“So, where does that leave us?” I ask, eyeing his bag of Bugles.“Can you be trusted?”“That depends. Are you willing to share?” I smile. “Good hiding spot, by the way. Nobody ever uses those baskets.”“That’s what you think.” He gazes down the hall to make sure the coast is clear and then snags a bag of Hershey’s Kisses from one of the other four overhead baskets.We park ourselves at the kitchen island and rip both bags open. Five full minutes of lusty devouring pass before either of us speaks.”

“Dear Jack:I have no idea who he was. But he saved me. From you.I watched from the doorway as he smacked, punched, and threw you against the wall. You fought back hard- I'll give you that- but you were no match for him.And when it was over- when you'd finally passed out- the boy made direct eye contact with me. He removed the rag from my mouth and asked me if I was okay.'Yes. I mean, I think so,' I told him.But it was her that he was really interested in: the girl who was lying unconscious on the floor. Her eyes were swollen, and there looked to be a trail of blood running from her nose.The boy wiped her face with a rag. And then he kissed her, and held her, and ran his hand over her cheek, finally grabbing his cell to dial 911.He was wearing gloves, which I thought was weird. Maybe he was concerned about his fingerprints, from breaking in. But once he hung up, he removed the gloves, took the girl's hand, and placed it on the front of his leg- as if it were some magical hot spot that would make her better somehow. Tears welled up in his eyes as he apologized for not getting there sooner.'I'm so sorry,' he just kept saying.And suddenly I felt sorry too.Apparently it was the anniversary of something tragic that'd happened. I couldn't really hear him clearly, but I was pretty sure he'd mentioned visiting an old girlfriend's grave.'You deserve someone better,' he told her. 'Someone who'll be open and honest; who won't be afraid to share everything with you.' He draped his sweatshirt over her, kissed her behind the ear, and then promised to love her forever.A couple minutes later, another boy came in, all out of breath. 'Is she alright?' he asked.The boy who saved me stood up, wiped his tearful eyes, and told the other guy to sit with her until she woke up. And then he went to find scissors for me. He cut me free and brought me out to the sofa. 'My name's Ben,' he said. 'And help is on the way.'When the girl finally did wake up, Ben allowed the other guy to take credit for saving her life. I wanted to ask him why, but I haven't been able to speak.That's what this letter is for. My therapist says that I need to tell my side of things in order to regain my voice. She suggested that addressing my thoughts directly to you might help provide some closure.So far, it hasn't done the trick.Never your Jill,Rachael”

“But I’m not letting you off so easily. Did you hear something that I should know about?”“No,” I say, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than I ever thought possible.“So, then, is this just an excuse you’ve devised to call me? Because, trust me when I say that you need no excuses. I love hearing from you.”

“He’d wanted to accompany her, but both of them knew it’d be smarter for him to stay home.In other words, neither of them trusts me. And who can really blame them?The last time they both went away together, a stalker broke into our house, our basement turned into a scene out of Fright Night, and I nearly gave my boyfriend a concussion.”

“Love isn't rational, it's instinctive”