“I like when he tells me that he likes the way I feel because it goes against what I've heard my entire life and I wish I could put his words in my pocket just to touch them once in a while and remind myself that they exist.”

“I wish I could put his words in my pocket just to touch them once in a while and remind myself that they exist.”

“Just once, he looks back at Arsay, and I feel like an entire encyclopedia of information and words is exchanged between them. I wish I could speak telepathy too.”

“I wished for you," he whispered, so quietly that I struggled to hear."What did that feel like? I've never made a wish in my life." My voice was as shaky as my words were stupid."Everybody wishes for something, Charli."I put just enough space between us to be able to look at him. "Not me. I've saved them all up. Birthday candles, shooting stars, stray eyelashes...ladybugs. I've saved hem all up. I figure I'm owed hundreds of wishes now.”

“The doors to the convenience store slammed open, and I heard frantic footsteps run toward me.I looked up just as Cole rounded the corner of the last aisle. When he saw me,he let out an audible sigh of relief."Don't scare me like that,Nik."I couldn't answer.I lowered my head and let the tears flow. Cole sat beside me and put his arm around me,and I let him. I cried into the front of his black leather jacket, my tears pooling on the chest pocket."Careful.I didn't bring a life jacket," Cole said.I sniffled."Shh.It's okay."I guess that was how low I'd sunk, that Cole was the one person who could console me. We sat like that for a few long minutes,and when I finally had composed myself enough to speak,I said into his jacket, "Why don't you help me?You could be a hero for once."He put his lips against my head. "Heroes don't exist. And if they did,I wouldn't be one of them.”

“He acted like he didn't hear me. "He will let you down, because that's what he does. That's who he is." For the rest of my life, I was going to remember those words. Everything Jeremiah said to me that day, our wedding day, I would remember. I would remember the words Jeremiah said and the way he looked at me with them. With pity, and with bitterness. I hated myself for being the one who made him bitter, because that was one thing he'd never been. I reached up and laid my palm on his cheek. He could have pushed my hand away, he could have recoiled at my touch. He didn't. Just that one tiny thing told me what I needed to know - that Jere was still Jere and nothing could ever change that.”