“I would not sing you to sleep. I would press my lips to your ear and hope the terror in my heart stirs you.”

“You are meant for me, and I for you," Brandon whispered in my ear, and pressed his lips to my neck, sending more dreams of our future through me.”

“He presses his lips to my jaw, to the corner of my mouth, to my ear. "I promise I'll find you again," he whispers. "I promise you I'll remember you. And I promise I'll love you.”

“For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.”

“You think giving you a hug would give away too much?" he says."You know," I say. "I really don't care."I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.It is the best moment of my life.”

“And after, when it was bedtime, I would sing, “We love you, Conrad, oh yes we do. We love you, Conrad, and we’ll be true” into the bathroom mirror with a mouthful of toothpaste. I would sing my eight-nine-ten-year-old heart out. But I wasn’t singing to Conrad Birdie. I was singing to my Conrad. Conrad Beck Fisher, the boy of my preteen dreams.”