“Okay," I said, "what's your biggest fear?"As always, he took a second to think about the answer."Clowns," he said."Clowns.""Yup."I just looked at him. "What?" he said, glancing over at me."That is not a real answer," I told him."Says who?""Says me. I meant a real fear, like of failure, of death, of regret. Like that. Something that keeps you awake nights, questioning your very existence."He thought for a second. "Clowns.”

“That's not a real answer.'Says who?'Says me. I mean real fear, like of failure, of death, of regret. Like that. Something that keeps you awake nights, questioning your very existence.'Clowns.”

“Maurice once said to me- when I had asked him a question rather like yours - he said, "An answer is always a form of death" There was something else in her face then. It was not implaceable; but in some way impermeable. 'I think questions are a form of life”

“He blocked me. " What'd you do, Chloe?"I sidestepped. He sidesteped."You like him, don't you?" he said. "Yes, I like him. Just not...""Not what?""Talk to Simon. He's the one who thinks...""Thinks what?"Step. Block."Thinks what?""That there's someone else," I blurted before I could stop myself. I took a deep, shuddering breath. "He thinks there's someone else.""Who?"I was going to say I don't know. Some guy from school, I guess. But Derek's expression already knew the answer. The look on his face...It'd been humiliating before, having Simon accuse me of liking Derek, but that was nothing compared to how I felt when I saw Derek's look. Not just surprise, but shock. Shock and horror."Me?" he said. "Simon said he thinks you and I are-" "No, not that. He knows we aren't-""Good. So what does he think?""That I like you." Again, the words flew out before I could stop them.”

“Any other questions?""Just one," I say. "What color are your eyes?" I want to know what he thinks, how he sees himself - the real Ky - when he dares to look."Blue," he says sounding surprised, "they've always been blue.""Not to me.""What do they look like to you?" he says puzzled, amused. Not looking at my mouth anymore, looking into my eyes."Lots of colors," I say. "At first I thought they were brown. Once I thought they were green...""What are they now?" he asks. He widens his eyes a little, leans closer, lets me look as long and deep as I want."Well?""Everything," I tell him, "They're everything.”

“Okay, so if that's not real, whatis? What counts, to you?"He thought for a second, then said, "I don't know. Just because someone's pretty doesn't mean she's decent.Or vice versa. I'm not into appearances. I like flaws, I think they make things interesting."I wasn't sure what answer I'd expected. But this wasn't it. For a second, I just sat there, letting it sink in."You know," I said finally, "saying stuff like that would make girls even crazier for you. Now you're cuteandsomewhat more attainable. If you were appealing before, now you're off the charts.”