“Guess where that left me? That's right: between Ryder, my boyfriend, who hated Lucian with the proverbial fiery passion and J, my best friend, who wanted Lucian around, so, basically in hell.”

“Before I knew it, my daily schedule had started to look a lot like this:Monday: Woke up, thought of Ryder; went to school, stared at Ryder; had lunch with J, gaped at Ryder; went to PE, brooded over Ryder's absence; went home, thought of Ryder; took a drive "accidentally" passing by Dave's Garage, spied on Ryder; came home, thought of Ryder; had dinner, no appetite due to lack-of Ryder; went to bed, tossed and turned thinking about Ryder.Tuesday: See above, with minor adjustments.Wednesday: Ryder wasn't in school, my world collapsedThursday: Same as Monday and TuesdayFriday: See above.Saturday: Nightmarishly long, boring. Drove by Dave's Garage twice, hoping to see Ryder.Sunday: See above, minus the drive-by. But, yay, tomorrow I'll see Ryder in school! God bless Mondays.”

“I took my time and observed Ryder Kingscott - the legend, the most envied, desired, talked about, etc., guy in school - mutating before my eyes into Ryder Kingscott, the ... possible stalker?”

“What game is this, Ryder?" I asked frostily. "What are we playing at here?"Shrugging, he replied "It's not me who's playing. I'm not the one who's wasted the last two weeks trying to make up her mind. Not the one who's asking about other people or has second thoughts about something as innocent as a kiss.”

“He lowered his mouth to mine anyway, close enough that our lips almost brushed for a millisecond before his glided across my cheek, his breath laying a fiery trail from the corner of my mouth to my ear."I'm not going to kiss you, Lily," he whispered. "I'm patient. I'll wait until you want it bad enough."[...]"You'll be asking for it soon," he added. "No hesitation.”

“You've been following me around.""No", he denied, without flinching."Gosh", I scoffed, "I had no idea the woods were rigged with TV cameras. My bad."One of the corners of his mouth twitched.”

“Picture this: possible boyfriend X takes normal girl versus freak girl, namely me, home to meet his mother. After a handshake, normal girl comments, Oh, what a pretty manicure, Mrs. X. My comment? After I wipe away the foam at my mouth, and I'm finally done convulsing, Mrs, X, you'll die in a car crash two weeks from today. You may as well take care of the arrangements because I'm never wrong. And we live happily ever after? Fat chance.”