Despite popular belief, hitting someone with a closed fist actually hurts the hitter almost as much as the hittee.

Lies," Mr Solomon said the next morning as he walked into the classroom. "We tell them to our friends," he said. "We tell them to our enemies. And eventually...we tell them to ourselves.

"No," Preston snapped. But he didn't protest long because, if I'm going to be honest - which is kind of the point of these reports - I was already unzipping his pants.

That's cool." Hale nodded, unfazed. "But just so you know, that"---he pointed to the piece of metal peeking out from behind the stage---"is a Hurst 5,000 PSI hydraulic spreader-cutter, more commonly know as the Jaws of Life." "So?" "So I'm not a normal boy.

Mr. Solomon was right the worst kind of torture is watching someone you love get hurt.

Like so many aspiring writers who still have boxes of things they've written in their parents' houses, I filled notebooks with half-finished poems and stories and first paragraphs of novels that never got written.

What about him?" "What's going on with you two?" "Nothing," Kat said, a little too quickly. "Yeah, and why is that exactly? I thought you two were getting all relationshipy. But now you're gone half of the time and he's ...angry." "No, he's not." "Yes, he is." Gabrielle gave a short laugh. "He doesn't like you going off, doing these jobs on your own.