“We shouldn't be doing this." Dan broke the silence, his voice low. "We would both get in trouble." He stood up. "Let's go back.""We shouldn't be doing what?" I scrambled to my feet. "What exactly are we doing?""This.""You mean consorting?""Sure, consorting. Cavorting. Carousing." He paused to take a deep breath."Kissing." Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine.”

“What do you mean, 'what happened to my Redcoat boy'?" Fiona asked, swirling her spoon around her dish."I mean, where did he go?""He went..." Fiona gazed off into the distance and shook her head slightly." He went the way of all things.""You mean he died?"Her focus snapped back to me. "No.""Well, you made it sound like he died.""I just meant that he went wherever it is that boys go when they go." She waved a hand. "Into the ether. Into the great beyond.""It's still sounding like he died. Did you at least get his number?”

“That waitress was flirting with me," Dad announced once we were out of the restaurant. He said it in his "whispering voice," which meant it was still loud enough for the waitress, all of her coworkers, and the shoppers at every other store in the mall to overhear."Ew," I said. "She was not."Dad chuckled with delight over how hot and eligible he imagined himself to be. "She kept coming over to 'try to collect my plate'...""Because that is her job," I reminded him."And the way she looked at your mother? Pure jealousy!" Dad slipped his arm around Mom's waist. "Poor thing. I left her a big tip.”

“What really happened doesn't matter. What matters is how we agree to remember it.”

“Don't take this as a compliment, but you actually don't smell that bad."Dan let out a burst of surprised laughter. "What did you expect me to smell like?""Well..." I wrinkled my nose. "I heard you guys soak your uniforms in urine.""So you assumed I'd smell like pee.""Yes," I said. "But you don't," I added kindly.”

“What do you think, Elizabeth?" Dad turned to me."Um, my name's still Chelsea. Remember, you named me that yourself? When I was born?”

“Also, he was kind of cute. Not really, of course, since he was the enemy, and the enemy cannot possibly be cute. He was only cute enough to make me wish I could free my hands so that I could fix my hair. I mean, fix my hair, then punch him in the face, and then run.”