“Excuse me," he greeted, smiling. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do either of you know how to get to the Nokia Theater?""Absolutely," Dylan chimed in. "That street right there is forty-second." He pointed to the right of where we were sitting. "You want to follow that for another four blocks and then turn right when you see Yangsoon's Kitchen. Then you want to go up another two blocks and bang a left at Starbucks. You'll see the theater up on your right after the big McDonald's sigh. You can't miss it."The man put the newspaper he was holding under his arm and extended his hand out to shake Dylan's. "Thank you sir. I really appreciate it. "He turned and scrambled off at lighting speed.I peered at Dylan suspiciously. "You don't really know how to get to the theater, do you?"His face remained blank as he shook his head."Not a clue.”

“Do you really like Quincy or are you just saying that?" I asked.Dylan held up his index finger and finished swallowing his toast. He looked alarmed by my question. "Quincy is fine. Why would I mind Quincy?""I don't know. I mean, don't you have a preference as to where we live?"Dylan shook his head. "Not really. As long as I'm living with you, I could care less. I'd live in a closet with you for Christ's sake.”

“So, you really think…” Dylan’s voice trailed off as soon as he saw me. His eyes moved up and down my entire body, staring at me like I was a meal. “Wow. You look… great.”

“He's not doing anything he shouldn't be doing, right?" "Like what?""Like hitting on you.""Ew. No, of course not. He doesn't see me that way." Michael shook his head and went back to his coffee."What? You think he does?""Sometimes he looks at you a little... oddly, that's all. Maybe you're right. Maybe he just wants you for your blood.""Again, Ew! What's with you this morning?""Not enough coffee.”

“I smashed his hand as hard as I could with the Wiffle bat."Ow!" he screamed.Carson was rubbing his red palm, inspecting it for damage. "That hurt," he shrieked. "You really hurt me.""Right back at you," I said. "Good-bye Carson."He frowned, massaging his hand, the big baby. "I just wanted to end this nicely.""Yeah?" I cocked the bat up to hit him again. "Well, this time you don't get what you want.”

“He lifted his gaze to hers. "I have a lot of other things I should be doing, but I'm here." He stared into her eyes for several heartbeats before he returned his attention to the big box. "I've tried to stay away. After you threw me out of the house, I thought it was probably for the best. You're a distraction, and I don't need a distraction right now." He handed the screwdriver back to her and ripped the box open with his big hands. "I've got tapes I need to review, and plays I need to go over in my head before today's practice, yet here I am. Putting baby furniture together for you because I can't get you out of my head. I plug in a tape, and all I do is think about you." He peeled back the cardboard and reached for the instruction sheet that had fallen to the floor. "But the thing is, Adele, I'm not really sure whether you want me to be here or not." His polo shirt pulled out of the waistband of his Levi's and slid up the tan muscles of his back. He straightened and looked at her over the top of the instructions. "I don't know what you want.”

“I don't like this," he said. I don't like knowing you can't forgive me, Claire. Please, I said I was sorry, what do you want me to do? Beg?I will. I'll get on my knees right here if you want.”