“I could tell you a tale about something,' Miach offered, rubbing her hand absently. 'If you like.'She frowned thoughtfully. 'What sort of something?''Something that would soothe you,' he promised. 'I'm sure there would be swords involved. Bloodshed. Peril. That kind of thing.”

“So I told her that I loved her, not for telling me the thing she had told me, but for the courage involved in telling something like it, something that sad.”

“Write the kind of story you would like to read. People will give you all sorts of advice about writing, but if you are not writing something you like, no one else will like it either.”

“You're right. I'm not the kind of woman to do something foolish out of defiance. I am, however, the kind of woman who would do something just to prove that you can't tell me what kind of woman I am.”

“How can I be sure? Tell me something only you would know.” There went his hands to his hair again. And when that frustrated him, he did the fist thing. So far,he was very convincing. “You want trivia right now?”“Yes!” Why did he always make things so difficult? Add another check to the “He’s probably Gabe” list.“Like what?” I had to stop looking at his head. “I don’t know.What tattoo do I have on my left boob?”“I thought you said to tel you something only I would know.”

“Tell you what," he said, noticing my stare. "I know you can't get a license, but I might be able to do something better.""What?"He smiled. "How would you like to come to school with me tomorrow and see a real, live locker?" I'm pretty sure I squealed.”