“And if it took me more than thirty seconds of thinking, he wouldn't let me flounder. He would jump right in and explain. Not like so many others who liked to call themselves teachers.”

“He peered down at me. “Jesus Christ. You’re leaking.”If by “leaking” he meant “sobbing like a girl,” I guess so.”

“Dylan sighed. Some days he sighed more than others, and some days it seems like he did nothing but. He had a face that could have been on a Roman coin, and I'd heard his real name was something unpronouncable and Goth. Not like black-lipstick-and-angst, but actual barbarian.”

“My voice wouldn't work right. I made a tiny nod instead, because - how's this for weird? - I didn't want him to let go of me. He'd pulled back a little, with just his lower half, and I was afraid the scorch in my cheeks would set fire to the rest of me, because I had an idea why. Wow. Oh, wow.”

“I wished Graves would look at me. But he just stood there, glaring out from under his hair. I'm sure he could have painted fuck-off on his forehead and it would have been more subtle.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re not. She never caused me this agony.”What could I say to that? The way he was looking at me was making my head feel funny. Was making me feel funny and not just in that oh God I just almost died way.Christophe leaned in. His mouth was a mere centimetres from me. “She never made me think I would die of heart failure. She never, never made me fear for her this way.”

“Well, duh. You're cuter than she is." He said it like he might say, Grass is green or, Gravity works.”