“It is kind of hard to hold a lot in. But for me… it’s sometimes even harder to let it out.”

“It's not always so simple, Haven. Sometimes there isn't a good guy and a bad guy. Sometimes even the ones you want to believe turn out to be liars.”

“Harder to get in than out, like so little else.”

“So say I’m your mom.''What?' I said.'I’m your mom,' he repeated. 'Now tell me you want to quit modeling.'I could feel myself blushing. 'I can’t do that,' I said.'Why not?' he asked. 'Is it so hard to believe? You think I’m not a good role-player?''No,' I said. 'It’s just–''Because I am. Everyone wanted me to be their mother in group.'I just looked at him. 'I just… It’s weird.''No, it’s hard. But not impossible. Just try it.'A week earlier, I hadn’t even known what color his eyes were. Now, we were family. At least temporarily.”

“I tried to hold myself apart, showing only what I wanted, doling out bits and pieces of who I was. But that only works out for so long. Eventually, even the smallest fragments can't help but, make a whole.”

“Sometimes it seems safer to hold it all in, where the only person who can judge is yourself.”

“It's hard to do," I said. Wes looked at me. "What is?" I swallowed, not sure why I'd said this out loud. "Get it right.”