“Both of us are justifiably disturbed by this development, though it has provided a new avenue of exploration as to why the fuck both of us are so deeply weird.”

“You like me,” he finally said. “You like me, like me.” He was trying not to smile.“No. I hate you,” I said, hoping that saying it would make it so.“And yet, you draw me.” Noah was still smug, completely undeterred by my declaration.This was torture; worse somehow than what just happened, even though it was only the two of us. Or because it was only the two of us.“Why?” he asked.“Why what?” What could I say? Noah, despite you being an asshole, or maybe because of it, I’d like to rip off your clothes and have your babies. Don’t tell.”

“Yes!” He wrapped both arms around me, but when I tried to do the same he jumped away. “Watch the suit,” he said, glaring. Oh, boy.”

“Everyone is a little crazy. The only difference between us and them is that they hide it better.”

“This is where the privileged send their screwed-up progeny; no gluing macaroni to construction paper for us." He paused meaningfully. "They only let us CREATE with RICCIOLINI here.""I don't even know what that is.""It's very fancy, I assure you”

“And I freaked the fuck out in earnest.”

“The people we care about are always worth more to us than the people we don't. No matter what anyone pretends.”