“There's a moment everyone knows, when you look down at your fresh white shirt and realize you've spilled Coke or egg yolk or spaghetti sauce down the front. There's that flash of denial, followed by the realization that the shirt is probably ruined; it'll certainly never be the same. Then, for some people, it's "Well, that's life.Move on."I still haven't reached that point with the scar.”

“That's the thing about Willing: There's always someone happy to let you know exactly what your place is.”

“You'd think that philisophy might have put the kibosh on some of the Freddy Krueger stuff," I mused, tilting my jaw until I felt the pull of the scar."And well it might, if you ever let on that it hurt."I'm inclined to agree with that, too, but there's a limit. "So I should start going strapless.""DOn't be snotty.”

“She had a point,you know," Edward commented a few hours later. "Unnecessarily crude, perhaps, but apt. Our public personas frequently do not match our private ones. You, of all people, should know that.""This isn't about me," I said grumpily. "This is about needing to find more information about the private you.Something I don't already know.""I have terribly ugly feet.""Not what I had in mind.And probably untrue anyway."Edward glanced down at the empty space below his rib cage. "Probably. So, what did you have in mind?""A letter,maybe.From Diana.Something that connected your love to your work.""I rather thought I did that through my paintings.""You did.I mean, that's what attracted me to you in the first place.Well, o, that was your smile, probably,but the paintings helped. It's just that I need to know more about your muse.""Ah, darling Ella, the artist's muse is Ego.Nothing more.""You don't mean that.You married Diana because she made you feel like no one else in the universe ever did or could."He nodded. "She was extraordinary.""But not everyone saw that.Your family went nuts.Half of your friends stopped inviting you over, at least for a while.""Their loss. She was a woman who comes along once in a lifetime.”

“So,if it's all love or money, which is Alex Bainbridge?"I blinked at him. "What?""He's a turd, Ella. He looked right through you like you were a ghost, but you still have a thing for him.""I do n-""Don't even. You've gone through the whole week watching for him. So what is it? I would really like to know. Love or money?""I have not been watching for him!" I snapped. Oh, but I had, in every hallway, at lunch, when I took my seat at the edge of English class. "And if I have, it's just so I can look away first."Frankie rolled his eyes. "Shall I get you a pail of water?""Why?""Your pants are on fire."I actually looked down at my lap. "Oh, very funny." I shot Sadie a look when she giggled.”

“Frankie turned back and forth in front of the three-way mirror. "I have absolutely no ass whatsoever."A few feet away,a woman whose designer velour fit her like a sausage casing, gave an amused snort. "Honey," she said over a display of two-hundred-dollar T-shirts. "I have been waiting forty years to say those words."Frankie padded toward her in his socks and Alexander McQuenn pants.He thrust his hands into the pockets, pulling the fabric tighter, and presented her with his outthrust bottom. "Honestly. This is what you want?"She lasted about five seconds before grinning-and sighing at the same time. "No,I guess not."He turned around, leaned in, and informed her conspiratorially, "There is not a T-shirt on earth worth that much."She looked down at the plain blue cotton in her hands. "You are so right." She put it back. "And with that face, sweetie, you could have the ass of a rhino and no one would notice.I'm just saying.""What does she know?" he muttered when she'd gone. "What good has this face done me?"Apparently, Connor hadn't been quite as available as he'd let on. Apparently, along with dancing, juggling was one of his talents."You couldn't have known," Sadie said gently. "Oh,yes,I could.I mean, he's a guy,isn't he?"There's not much you can say to a boy when he makes a statement like that. So we just scooted in until we were up against Frankie's thin shoulders, bookending him.”

“There's a rumor Barsky's Chemistry Club is cultivating some fierce bacteria in the lab," Frankie informed me a few minutes later, after I'd related Mademoiselle Winslow's ultimation, and my soon-to-be tutoring sessions with Alex. "I bet we could break in and get you a good dose of something. Put the kibosh on the tutoring. Could be a little pinkeye, could be leprosy..." He took a cheerful bite of his taco, which flaked everywhere. "Frankie!" Sadie scolded. "That's awful." She'd already finished her apple and Belgian endive. To me, "If it's this or fail French, well, you don't know; Alex might be just what you need.""Oh,yeah,he's a prince," Frankie muttered. "Abso-friggin-lutely guaranteed to man up and do the right thing."With that,he reached over and stole my french fries. He'd already eaten the baggie of almonds Sadie had decided had too much fat. Apparently, she and I were both obsessing with our appearance. She was having a hate-hate day with her upper arms. I was wondering if I was about to be at the tutorial mercy of the guy who'd looked right through me, or the guy who looked at me like I'd never been scarred at all.”