“I miss you Emma." I'm not sure, but it looks like her eyes tear up. "I was fine for months without you," she says, the words hushed and forlorn. "Why does it hurt now?" I'm sighing and shoving a hand through my hair, which I know from experience leaves strands of it stabbing out in numerous directions, defiant and crazy-looking. Maybe crazy is exactly how I feel. "Because now we have hope of something more.”

“How do you know me?" she says.He looks at her through his narrow eyes. "I was," he says."You were what?" she asks."I was," he says again. "And now I'm not.”

“I'm sure I look like a drowned cat.""You look fine. The wet look works for you."I scowled. "Now I know you're lying.”

“First I thought she was crazy. Now I'm crazy about her.”

“I wasn't aware that was how I felt, either, until it was out. And now that I've said it like that, I'm not exactly sure it is how I feel. But this isn't a piece of paper I can crumple up and throw away. they aren't words I can cross out to start over. Now they're out, and I know they'll hang here, between us, maybe forever.”

“She studied my face.I rubbed my eyes. "I'm fine," I assured her.That was five months ago. I wasn't fine then and I'm not fine now. (Thwonk)”