“He’s coming over,” Lindsay says. “What do you want me to do? Kick him in the balls? I’ve been dying to kick him in the balls.”

“Here’s the thing about Cricket Bell. You can’t NOT notice him when he walks into a room. The first thing that registers is his height, but it’s quickly followed by recognition of his energy. He moves gracefully like his sister, but with an enthusiasm he can’t quite control- the constantly moving body, hands, feet. He’s been subdued the last few times I’ve seen him, but he’s fully revived now.”

“It sucked balls.Dirty balls. Like I-ran-a-mile-in-July-while-wearing-leather-pants balls.”

“One regular, clockworkorange88, said this: It sucked balls. Dirty balls. Like I-ran-a-mile-in-July-while-wearing-leather-pants balls.Sounds about right.”

“I close his fingers around the gift. “I threw away yourbottle cap, because it killed me to look at. But I never couldthrow away this. I’ve been waiting to give it to you for twoand a half years.”“I don’t know what to say,” he whispers.“I’m almost full,” I say. “Thank you for waiting for me, too.”

“I'm sorry," she whispers."You're sorry? You've been dating Toph for the last month,and you're sorry?""It just happened.I meant to tell you, I wanted to tell you-""But you lost control over your mouth? Because it's easy,Bridge. Talking is easy. Look at me! I'm talking right-""You know it wasn't that easy! I didn't mean for it to happen,it just did-""Oh,you didn't mean to wreck my life? It just 'happened'?"Bridge stands up from behind her drums. It's impossible,but she's taller than me now. "What do you mean,wreck your life?""Don't play dumb,you know exactly what I mean. How could you do this to me?""Do what? It's not like you were dating!"I scream in frustration. "We certainly won't be now!"She sneers. "It's kind of hard to date someone who's not interested in you.""LIAR!""What,you ditch us for Paris and expect us to put our lives on hold for you?"My jaw drops. "I didn't ditch you. They sent me away.""Ooo,yeah.To Paris.Meanwhile,I'm stuck here in Shitlanta, Georgia, at the same shitty school,doing shitty babysitting jobs-""If babysitting my brother is so shitty, why do you do it?""I didn't meant-""Because you want to turn him against me, too? Well.Congratulations, Bridge. It worked. My brother loves you and hates me. So you're welcome to move in when I leave again,because that's what you want, right? My life?"She shakes with fury. "Go to hell.""Take my life.You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!" I knock over a cymbal stand,and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name.Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away,away,away.Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.”

“St. Clair tucks the tips of his fingers into his pockets and kicks the cobblestones with the toe of his boots. "Well?" he finally asks."Thank you." I'm stunned. "It was really sweet of you to bring me here.""Ah,well." He straightens up and shrugs-that full-bodied French shrug he does so well-and reassumes his usual, assured state of being. "Have to start somewhere. Now make a wish.""Huh?" I have such a way with words. I should write epic poetry or jingles for cat food commercials.He smiles. "Place your feet on the star, and make a wish.""Oh.Okay,sure." I slide my feet together so I'm standing in the center. "I wish-""Don't say it aloud!" St. Clair rushes forward, as if to stop my words with his body,and my stomach flips violently. "Don't you know anything about making wishes? You only get a limited number in life. Falling stars, eyelashes,dandelions-""Birthday candles."He ignores the dig. "Exactly. So you ought to take advantage of them when they arise,and superstition says if you make a wish on that star, it'll come true." He pauses before continuing. "Which is better than the other one I've heard.""That I'll die a painful death of poisoning, shooting,beating, and drowning?""Hypothermia,not drowning." St. Clair laughs. He has a wonderful, boyish laugh. "But no. I've heard anyone who stands here is destined to return to Paris someday. And as I understand it,one year for you is one year to many. Am I right?"I close my eyes. Mom and Seany appear before me. Bridge.Toph.I nod."All right,then.So keep your eyes closed.And make a wish."I take a deep breath. The cool dampness of the nearby trees fills my lungs. What do I want? It's a difficult quesiton.I want to go home,but I have to admit I've enjoyed tonight. And what if this is the only time in my entire life I visit Paris? I know I just told St. Clair that I don't want to be here, but there's a part of me-a teeny, tiny part-that's curious. If my father called tomorrow and ordered me home,I might be disappointed. I still haven't seen the Mona Lisa. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.Walked beneath the Arc de Triomphe.So what else do I want?I want to feel Toph's lips again.I want him to wait.But there's another part of me,a part I really,really hate,that knows even if we do make it,I'd still move away for college next year.So I'd see him this Christmas and next summer,and then...would that be it?And then there's the other thing.The thing I'm trying to ignore. The thing I shouldn't want,the thing I can't have.And he's standing in front of me right now.So what do I wish for? Something I'm not sure I want? Someone I'm not sure I need? Or someone I know I can't have?Screw it.Let the fates decide.I wish for the thing that is best for me.How's that for a generalization? I open my eyes,and the wind is blowing harder. St. Clair pushes a strand of hair from his eyes. "Must have been a good one," he says.”