“Hey,”he said, taking in my disheveled appearance. “Why are you up so early?”“Oh, I was just, you know, exercising.”I jogged in place for a second before realizing that I probably looked like a mental patient.”

“Ugh. Why did I have to have so many thoughts? Why couldn't I just be a normal girl and bask in the glow of finally knowing that the boy I wanted wanted me back?I slipped in the back door,and as I did, one of the maids gave me a quick curtsy. Ah,right. Because I wasn't a normal girl.I had hoped to get back to my room without seeing anyone else, but I met Cal on the landing. Wonderful."Hey," he said, taking in my disheveled appearance. "Why are you up so early?""Oh,I was just,you know, exercising." I jogged in place for a second before realizing that I probably looked like a mental patient."Okaaay," Cal said slowly, confirming my suspicions.”

“I don't know what his problem is," I said as Michael and I left the school. "Why would he tell me to be careful if he hates my guts?" "Because he doesn't hate your guts. I think he likes you." Michael was walking so fast I had to jog to keep up with him. "Isn't it obvious?”

“On my mental instant replay, I realized that obliquely comparing his family to the Nazis was maybe not my finest moment. He was quiet a second, and then he said, 'Did you know that Hitler anted to be an artist, but since he couldn't get into art school, he turned into a Nazi?' 'Yes, I remember that.' 'Just imagine if he got into art school, the whole world would be different.' I said, 'It just shows that people should be allowed to be who they are. If they can't, then they turn into nasty, sad people.' He started to laugh. 'What if you went to the art gallery, and the guy was like, "Here you see a beautiful Monet, and here on your left is an early Hitler." Wouldn't that be weird?' I couldn't think of any subtle way to turn it back around again. He said, 'You would go to the gift shop and buy Hitler postcards, and you'd go, "Oh, look at this beautiful Hitler. I'm going to hang it in my room!" And people would wear Hitler t-shirts.' 'Yes,' I said. 'That would have been better.”

“Hey, it’s-!”“Who? Oh. Oh.”“Shut up.”“I haven’t said anything yet!”“Don’t.”“How can I shut up if I haven’t said anything?”“I know you. You’ve got a monologue coming up.”

“On his deathbed, my grandpa told me three things to remember for after he died. First he said, "You can't own a cat. Ever." Second he told me, "Friendly boys make friendly friends." Finally he said, "You were adopted, just like your father before you, and his father before him." "So," I said, "you were adopted?" "Of course not!" he replied. "Your father's not my son, just like he's not your father." And to this day I am still confused. I have no idea why I can't own a cat.”