“You cold or something?' he said. She strained against him; she wanted to pass clear through him: 'It's a chill, it's nothing'; and then, pushing a little away: 'Say you love me.'I said it.'No, oh no. You haven't. I was listening. And you never do.'Well, give me time.'Please.'He sat up and glanced at a clock across the room. It was after five. Then decisively he pulled off his windbreaker and began to unlace his shoes.Aren't you going to, Clyde?'He grinned back at her. 'Yeah, I'm going to.'I don't mean that; and what's more, I don't like it: you sound as though you were talking to a whore.'Come off it, honey. You didn't drag me up here to tell you about love.'You disgust me,' she said.Listen to her! She's sore!'A silence followed that circulated like an aggrieved bird. Clyde said, 'You want to hit me, huh? I kind of like you when you're sore: that's the kind of girl you are,' which made Grady light in his arms when he lifted and kissed her. 'You still want me to say it?' Her head slumped on his shoulder. 'Because I will,' he said, fooling his fingers in her hair. 'Take off your clothes--and I'll tell it to you good.”

“Tell me you don't love me."Laurel's mouth moved, but she said nothing."Tell me," he said, his voice sharp and demanding. "Tell me David is all you need or want in your life." His face was closer to her, his soft breath caressing her face. "That you never think of me when you're kissing him. That you don't dream about me the way I dream about you.Tell me you don't love me."She looked up at him,desperation consuming her. Her mouth felt dry, parched, and the words she tried to force out wouldn't come."You can't even say it," he said, his arms pulling her in now instead of holding her steady. "Then love me, Laurel. Just love me!”

“You like doing that, don't you?''Yes, I like kissing you.''No,' she said, 'lifting me off my feet. Carrying me around. Pulling me down to kiss you whenever you get the urge.' She turned to him with a mock glare. 'I think it goes hand in hand with the telling me what to do stuff.'He didn't let go of her hand as he lifted his to run the back of one knuckle down her cheek. 'You like it, too.”

“Then come here," he said, a bit redundantly, as he had already pulled her with him into an armchair and curled her up in his arms. "Tell me what I can do to help you feel better."Fire looked into his quiet eyes, touched his dear, familiar face, and considered the question. Well. I always like when you kiss me."Do you?"You're good at it."Well," he said. "That's lucky, because I'll always be kissing you.”

“What did she say to you?""Nothing.""Oh, great. I have to try to get you out of this mess after you hit a girl for nothing," he whispered angrily. "Josephine, don't waste my time. You don't seem like a violent type. She had to have said something to rile you."I just don't like her. She's vain. She puts her hair all over my books when she sits in front of me in class.""So you hit her?""No ... yes.""A girl puts her hair all over your books, so you break her nose?""Well, I don't think it's broken, personally.""Doctor Kildare, we are not here to give a medical opinion. I want to know what she said to you.""God," I yelled exasperated. "She said something to upset me, okay?""What? That you were ugly? That you smell? What?"I looked horrified."I'm not ugly. I don't smell."He sighed and took off his glasses, sitting down in front of me and pulling my chair towards him. "I was just asking for a reason.""Never mind," I said."That creep out there wants -you to pay for his daughter's nose-job. Because of that nose-job she will be a famous model one day and you'll be working in a fast-food chain because you couldn't finish your Higher School Certificate due to expulsion. Now tell me what she said.""There's nothing wrong with a fast-food chain," I said, thinking of my McDonald's job."I'm really getting pissed off now, Josephine. You called me out of work for this and you won't tell me why.""Just go," I said, as he stood up and paced the room."I'll defend myself in court."He groaned and looked up to the ceiling pulling his hair. "God save me from days like this," he begged."Go," I yelled."Okay. Let him win. He's a creep. Creeps always win," he said walking to the door. "But don't think you're going to make it in a court room, young lady. If you can't be honest, don't expect to stand up in a court room and defend honesty.""She called me a wog, amongst other things," I said, finally. "I haven't been called one for so long. It offended me. It made me feel pathetic.""Did you provoke her?""Yes. I called her a racist pig due to some things she was saying.""Is she one?""God, yes. The biggest.”

“The door jerked open and he glowered at her. "What do you want?""Hey! Why are you mad at me? I just want to talk to you.""I don't want to talk," he said, pushing the door closed. With inexplicable courage, she put her booted food in it's path. "Then maybe you can listen.""No!" he bellowed."You're not going to scare me!" she shouted at him.Then he roared like a wild animal. He bared his teeth, his eyes lit like there were gold flames in them, and the sound that came out of him was otherworldly. She jumped back, her eyes as wide as hubcaps. "Okay," she said, putting up her hands, palms toward him. "Maybe you do scare me. A little."-Ian and Marcie”