“I’d only met him once, at the mall. He was tall, with a big floppy shock of blond hair he was always getting out of his face by jerking his head suddenly to the side, whiplash-style. Rina found this incredibly sexy. It made me nervous. - Caitlin about Jeff”

“I was woundering what he would say, what word could sum me up right then, when i saw the lights come across his face, blaringly yellow, and suddenly he was brighter, and brighter, and i asked him what was happening, what was wrong. I remember only that light, so strong it spilled across my shoulders, and lit up his face, and how scared he looked as something big and loud hit my door, sending glass shattering across me, little sparks catching the light like diamonds, as they fell, with me, into the dark.”

“I just shook my head, knowing this was him evading the question.You," I said, "have this whole tall, dark stranger thing going on. Not to mention the tortured artist bit."Bit?"You know what I mean."He shook his head, clearly discounting this description.And you," he said, "have that whole blonde, cool and collected, perfect smart girl thing going on."You're the boy all the girls want to rebel with," I said.You," he replied, "are the unattainable girl in homeroom who never gives a guy the time of day.”

“He wasn't the type for displays of affection, either verbal or not. He was disgusted by couples that made out in the hallways between classes, and got annoyed at even the slightest sappy moments in movies. But I knew he cared about me: he just conveyed it more subtly, as concise with expressing this emotion as he was with everything else. It was in the way he'd put his hand on the small of my back, for instance, or how he'd smile at me when I said something that surprised him. Once I might have wanted more, but I'd come around to his way of thinking in the time we'd been together. And we were together, all the time. So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.”

“Donneven," I said, in my best Monica imitation, and he laughed. "We're not talking about me.""We could be," he said, as I watched Bert take note of a group of what looked like ninth graders who had justcome into the living room."I'm not gorgeous," I said."Sure you are."I just shook my head, knowing this was him evading the question. "You," I said, "have this whole tall, darkstranger thing going on. Not to mention the tortured artist bit.""Bit?""You know what I mean."He shook his head, clearly discounting this description. "And you," he said, "have that whole blonde, cooland collected, perfect smart girl thing going on.""You're the boy all the girls want to rebel with," I said."You," he replied, "are the unattainable girl in homeroom who never gives a guy the time of day.”

“You don't have to say it out loud. I already know why you like me.''You do, huh?''Yep.'He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. 'So,' I said. 'Tell me''It's an animal attraction,' he said simply. 'Totally chemical.''Hmm,' I said. 'You could be right.''It doesn't matter, anyway, why you like me.''No?''Nope.' His hands were in my hair now, and I was leaning in, not able to totally make out his face, but his voice was clear, close to my ear. 'Just that you do.”

“When he first put his arms around me, it was tentative, like maybe he expectedI'd pull away. When Ididn't, he moved in closer, his hands smoothing over my shoulders, and in mymind I saw myselfretreating a million times when people tried to do this same thing: my sister ormy mother, pulling backand into myself, tucking everything out of sight, where only I knew where tofind it. This time, though, Igave in. I let Wes pull me against him, pressing my head against his chest,where I could feel his heartbeating, steady and true.”