“You want to take me to a movie?" I asked. "Well, not really," he said. "What I really want is for you to be my girlfriend. But I thought saying that might scare you off.”

“So," he said as we turned onto the main road, the muffler rattling, "I've been thinking.""Yeah?"He nodded. "You really need to go out with me." I blinked. "I'm sorry?""You know. You, me. A restaurant or movie. Together." He glanced over, shifting gears. "Maybe it's a new concept for you? If so, I'll be happy to walk you through it.""You want to take me to a movie?" I asked."Well, not really," he said. "What I really want is for you to be my girlfriend. But I though saying that might scare you off.”

“Come on Josie." He leaned closer and whispered in my ear, "I really want you there.""Yeah?" I asked, slamming my locker shut. "And do you always get what you want?""Yes," he said.”

“He finally cleared his throat. "Well, huh." "Yeah," I said. "What now?" "Well"—he cleared his throat again—"I guess you and I go. I mean, unless you really don't want to." Why put it on me to bail out? "Do you want to?" I asked. "Yeah. I really do. I had to talk Dad into giving me the afternoon off. And since I don't usually go to a lot of trouble to fix lunch, it seems a shame to waste the effort. Besides, there's the thing I want you to see." He said all of this while staring at the door like he was talking to it. I almost expected it to respond.”

“He turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too.‘Is this scaring you, Tris?’‘No,’ I croak. I clear my throat. ‘Not really. I’m only…afraid of what I want.’‘What do you want?’ Then his face tightens. ‘Me?’Slowly I nod.”

“Tell me what you want, what you really, really want," he said."Braiiinnnnssss," we said in unison.”