“There's not a boy alive like the one in my dreams.”

“Just Michael, how grateful I was that he was alive, how much I wanted to touch him. How much I wanted him to touch me.He kept his eyes on the activity outside. "Emerson, you can't look at me like that. Not right now.""How do you know I'm looking at you?""I can feel it." He smiled. I couldn't see it, but I could hear it in his voice. He hooked one arm around my neck and gently pulled me to his side.”

“I smiled back as he walked away, but all the lovely butterflies in my stomach landed one by one in a cold, dead heap.”

“One second he was kissing me as if I was as essential to him as oxygen, and the next it was over. He stepped away, looking haunted."Did I do something wrong?"I touched my mouth, missing the heat of him."No." He shook his head and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. I didn't want his hands in his pockets. I wanted them on me."Why did you--?""Not because I wanted to stop kissing you."He looked at my lips. My pulse sped up, but my blood felt like lava moving through my veins."Timing. My timing sucks."Circumstances. Not because of me. I couldn't keep myself from grinning. "Why would you like to try this again then, another time?""I'd very much like to try this again, another time."He grinned, but it carried a touch of sadness. "I'll give you a second to...fix your hair.""My hair?""I'll give you a second to fix my hair. I mean, I'll give you a second while I go fix my hair." He let out a sigh. "I mean, I'll see you downstairs." He turned to walk out of the room, but unfortunately, he forgot to open the door first. I managed to hold in my laughter until he got it right.”

“Autumn always fascinated me—so much beauty in dying. Leaves holding on until the bitter end, finally going down in a blaze of glory, almost as if they were trying to convince us to keep them alive.”

“It's not my goal to freak you out.""Too bad," I answered. "Because that one was so solid it didn't even touch the net." Swish.”

“After I pulled in, I decided in my typical fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants fashion that if anyone asked, I was going to be "lost." I hoped no one would have the opportunity to look in the car. Lost and a fancy GPS system didn't go together.”