“you're @ home?"She could hear him moving around..."I'll let you go then.""What if I dont want you to?"he said.She heard the music as he walked toward his room, some sort of jazz.her heart sped up, thinking of him stretched out on his bed too, "Good night, Seth.""So ur running again, then? One of his boots thudded on the floor."I'm not running.".."Really?""Really.Its just--"She stopped."Maybe you should slow down, so i can catch you."He paused, waiting.He seemed to do that more & more lately, make statements that invited her to admit something dangerous to their friendship.When she didnt answer he added, "Sweet dreams, Ash.”

“Good night, Seth.""So you're running again, then?" One of his boots thudded on the floor."I'm not running."The other boot hit the floor. "Really?""Really. It's just—" She stopped; she didn't have anything that would finish that sentence and be honest. "Maybe you should slow down, so I can catch you." He paused, waiting.”

“I love you," he said.She looked up at him, her eyes shiny and black, then looked away. "I know," she said.He pulled one of his arms out from under her and traced her outline against the couch. He could spend all day like this, running his hand down her ribs, into her waist, out to her hips and back again.... If he had all day, he would. If she weren't made of so many other miracles."You know?" he repeated. She smiled, so he kissed her. "You're not the Han Solo in this relationship, you know.""I'm totally the Han Solo," she whispered. It was good to hear her. It was good to remember it was Eleanor under all this new flesh."Well, I'm not the Princess Leia," he said."Don't get so hung up on gender roles," Eleanor said.”

“Violet couldn’t help it—she giggled. Just a little. It was just too much. The whole thing. Jay trying to trick her into revealing her feelings for him. Grady trying to kiss her last night. And then this . . . now . . . she and Jay cuddled up together on her bed . . . making out. It was crazy.“You think that’s funny, huh?” He seemed a little bent that she was laughing at him.“Joke’s on me, I guess,” she said, serious now. “I get to sit at home, while you and Lissie Adams go to Homecoming.” She tried to sound like it was no big deal, but the truth was that it strung more than she wanted it to.Jay reached up and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. He pulled her toward him, staring her in the eye as they closed the distance between them. Violet felt an agonizing thrill at just being so near him again. “I called her last night to candle after I dropped you off.” His voice was thick and husky, giving her chills. “I told her I was going to the dance with you instead.”Violet thought her heart was going to burst. It was exactly what she’d wanted to hear for weeks, maybe even for months. But she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily for his devious little game. “Sorry,” she offered with mock sincerity. “I have a date already. Besides, I don’t remember you asking me.”He narrowed his eyes at her, as if daring her to argue the point. “I’m your date. Grady can go to hell, for all I care. Maybe Lissie’ll go with him and he can paw on her all night.”

“She tries to move toward him, but the path is covered with gravel, which slows her down. Then he turns his head and sees her. He puts down his brush and comes closer, and the closer he comes, the closer he comes, the happier she is she didn't put on mascara, she doesn't want to cry but she can't help it, she can hardly see him through the welling tears. She quickly wipes her eyes. She looks at him. He's standing two steps away. She could stretch out her hand, he'd come even closer, she could touch him. He's the same, thinner, the most beautiful man in the world, with the eyes Germain Pire described to her, a very pale blue, almost gray, quiet and gentle, with something struggling in their depths, a child, a soul of agony. His voice hasn't changed.The first thing she hears him say--it's terrible--he asks her, "You can't walk?" She shakes her head. He sighs, goes back to his painting. She pushes the wheels, moves toward the shed. He looks over at her again, he smiles. "You want to see what I'm doing?" She nods her head. "I'll show you in a little bit," he says. "But not right now, it's not finished."So while she waits, she sits up straight in her scooter, she crosses her hands in her lap, she looks at him. Yes, she looks at him, she looks at him, life is long and can still carry a great deal more on its back.She looks at him.”

“He stood up and took a step toward her. "There has been a request for your hand in marriage.""Is that why you kissed me? So you could take me home and then marry me to a man I don't love? Who is he?" she demanded, emotionally spent now and uncaring that tears were streaming down her face.He started toward her."Don't you dare kiss me again," she ordered. "I can't think when you… Just don't," she stammered. "And as for the offer, I decline.""You can't decline until you know who he is," he reasoned."All right. Tell me his name, and then I'll decline. You're going to praise him first though, aren't you?That's what you always do to try to get me to agree," she ended, and even she could hear the heartbreak in her voice."No, I'm not going to praise him. He's riddled with flaws."She stopped trying to run away. "He is?"He slowly nodded. "I have it on good authority that he's stupid and arrogant and obstinate, or at least he was until he realized what a fool he has been.""But that's what I said about… you.""I love you, Bridgid. Will you marry me?”