“How old are you? Twelve?""Fourteen & three quarters."His eyes sparkled. "You're kind of little for fourteen and three quarters.""Am not," I replied indignantly. "I'm a sophomore this year. How old are you?" "Seventeen and two fifths."Hardy Cateses & Liberty Jones.”

“Maybe that was how it was with all first loves. They own a little piece of your heart, always. Conrad at twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, even seventeen years old.”

“You're fourteen years old. You've only had that hair for fourteen years and you want to change it already! How bored are you going to be with it by the time you are thirty? What color will you be up to by then?”

“Where do you wanna belong?" I half whispered. His expression changed with quicksilver speed, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anywhere they don't want me."-Hardy Cateses & Liberty Jones”

“You hear about how many fourth quarter comebacks that a guy has and I think it means a guy screwed up in the first three quarters”

“My voice softens. 'How old are you?''I'll be eleven next year.'I grin. 'So you're ten years old?'He crosses his arms. Frowns. 'I'll be twelve in two years.'I think I already love this kid.”