“Is there any point in asking what you're going to do to me?"He grinned wickedly. "Not really."Fabulous."Does it involve the use of a safe word?""That will depend entirely on you.”

“Is there any point asking what you're going to make me do on Sunday?''Not really.'Okay. 'Is there any point asking what you're going to do to me?'He grinned wickedly. 'Not really.'Fabulous. 'Does it involve the use of a safe word?''That will depend entirely on you.' Noah moved impossibly closer, just inches away. A few freckles disappeared into the scruff on his jaw. 'I'll be gentle,' Noah added. My breath caught in my throat as he looked at me from beneath those lashes, ruining me.I narrowed my eyes at him. 'You're evil.'In response, Noah smiled, and raised his finger to gently tap the tip of my nose. 'And you're mine,' he said, then walked away.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, Jamal Feldstein-Roth.”I blinked. “Wait, Jamal?”“Suck it,” he said with a grin. “My parents are liberal Jews from Long Island, okay? They wanted me to have a connection to my heritage.” Jamie made air quotes with his fingers. “I’m not judging—my middle name is Amitra. I’m just surprised.”“Amitra,” Noah amused. “Mystery solved.”“What is that?” Jamie asked me.“Sanskrit? Hindi?” I shrugged.“Randomly?”I shook my head. “My mom’s Indian.”“What does that mean?” Jamie asked me.“What does Jamal mean?” I asked him.“Point taken.”

“what if they make me stay? To keep me safe?”“I wouldn’t, if I were them.”“What do you mean?”“Any minute now . . .”Two seconds later, the sound of an alarm filled my ears.“What did you do?” I said over the noise as he backed up toward the bathroom door.“The girl who gave you the note?”“Yes . . .”“I caught her staring at my lighter.”I blinked. “You gave a child, in a psych ward, a lighter.”

“What is real?" Asked the boy. "It is a thing that happens to you when a girl loves you for a long time. Not just to play with," Noah said. "But really loves you." "Does it hurt?" Asked the boy. "Sometimes. When you are real you don't mind being hurt.”

“I pointed to it."Yuca," Noah said.I pointed to the dough balls."Fried plantains."I pointed to a low bowl filled with what purported to be stew, but then Noah said, "Are you going to point, or are you going to eat?”

“I squinted one of my eyes at Daniel.“What are you doing?” he asked.“This is me, giving you the side eye.” I continued to squint.“Well, you look like you’re having a stroke”