“When he smiles at me, I feel like I'm sitting under a heat lamp. I live for the times when his fingers brush my leg at lunch, or when we pass in the hallways and he raises his eyebrows at me, like we have a secret. I should feel bad--and I do, most of the time--but how can I stop thinking about him when seeing his face makes me feel so alive?”

“I'm with him because when I'm with him, I'm free to be me. I'm with him because he's hot. I'm with him because he lets me blather, since I'm prone to blathering, and he lets me rant when I have a bad day. I'm with him because when I rant, he makes me feel better and he does this effortlessly. I'm with him because I live for the times when I'm on the back of his bike and we're riding together, not even talking, just being free.”

“Giving to other people makes me feel alive. Not my car or my house. Not what I look like in the mirror. When I give my time, when I can make someone smile after they were feeling sad...”

“As if the daytime wasn't bad enough, I dream about him. Every night for three nights in a row. I can't get out of that moment when I was in his head, feeling what he felt, hearing his thoughts as he kissed me. I can feel him loving me. And it kills me, that moment when I feel his love shift into fear.”

“So are we good then?” I raised my face up to his and we kissed. “Maybe,” I said, starting to feel better. “Only maybe?” He cocked an eyebrow at me, his eyes full of amusement. “How can I change that ‘maybe’ into a ‘definitely’?”

“And, I just can't shake this feeling I have when I'm around him. The chemistry, The electricity I feel when he's close to me or touches me, makes me feel more alive than I've ever felt”