“Sometimes I feel like I've been waiting for someone to tell me when I can be normal again,' she said. 'I keep thinking I'll get a letter. Or a call. When does it happen?'Pete looked like he wanted to walk toward her, but then he fell back against the car. The staring contest between them for almost a minute, and finally Pete exhaled loudly.It's okay,' he said.”

“Okay, okay, backing off. Um, I suppose this would be a bad time to ask you to talk to Pete for me, you know, about the car?'His eyes widened. I could almost hear him thinking, Of all the nerve! 'You were driving,' he said.'But he likes you so much better than me.''That is because I do not keep wrecking the rentals.”

“And then it was between Shane and Claire on who retreated first. "Uou go," he said."Why?"Shane and Pete exchangedblooks. "Seriously?" Pete asked."Yeah, she's like that," Shane said, and turned to her. "Because you're my girlfriend, and I'm not going unti; I know you're safe. How's that?”

“Lockie stood with his arms by his sides as she ran her hands over his hair and squeezed his arms. Tina could see how uncomfortable Lockie felt at being touched. Margie hugged him again and again. She didn’t notice Lockie’s face or she would have stopped. When Margie stood up she was crying. Pete, meanwhile, was watching Tina.‘Start talking,’ he said to her and Tina could see he had already decided who was to blame for Lockie’s disappearance. ‘Her name’s Tina,’ said Lockie. ‘She saved me. Can you take us home, Pete?’Pete looked at Lockie. ‘You know I will, Lockie, but first —’‘Please, Pete,’ said Lockie. ‘Can you just take us home?’‘Oh god,’ said Margie. ‘Doug and Sarah—we have to call them. We have to let them know.’ She kept touching Lockie, on his head, on his arms and on his back. Tina could see Lockie wince. People wouldn’t know that they needed to be careful when they touched him. Some touches can make you feel sick.”

“We sat there, not talking, for a few minutes. He ate the Moon Pie; only skinny people can scarf down junk food like that. Finally, I said, "Norman?""Yeah?""Are you ever going to show me the painting?""Man," he said. "You are, like, so impatient.""I am not," I said. "I've been waiting forever.""Okay, okay." He stood up and went over to the corner, picking up the painting and bringing it over to rest against the bright pink belly of one of the mannequins. Then, he handed me a bandana. "Tie that on.”

“How is he?""Who?""Your father."Of all the things Claire had expected, that wasn't it, and it took her a minute of honest puzzlement to try to work out why someone like Frank Collins would even care. She finally said,"He's doing okay. I talked to my mom yesterday; the doctors think they can fix his heart problem. He's feeling a lot better."Frank nodded. "Good. Family's important," he said. "Maybe too important, sometimes. Iknow how much I screwed it up with Shane. Can't blame the kid for hating me now." It was almost a . . . question? And if it was a question, what could Claire say?Yeah, he hates your guts. That probably wasn't what Frank was hoping to hear."Just take care of him," she said. "That's what you're supposed to do. Stop using him, and start protecting him. I know he thinks he doesn't need it, but sometimes he does. Sometimes we all do."Now Frank did look up, and Claire felt a blush building in her face as he stared at her like he was actually seeing her for a change. "He did okay," Shane's dad finally said. "Picking you.”