And I start to say, no. Start to ask him to please just take it off and put it away. Start to explain how it holds far too many memories for me. But then I remember what Damen said once about memories - that they're haunting things. And because I refuse to be haunted by mine - I just take a deep breath and smile when I say, "You know, I think it looks really good on you. You should defiantly keep it.

Aw, now look at that, you're being sarcastic, aren't you?

Everything just feels so empty without her. She was more a parent to me than my birth parents were. She took me in, fed, dressed me, but most importantly, she treated me with respect. She taught me that my abilities were nothing to be ashamed of, nothing I should try so hard to deny. She convinced me that what I had was a gift-not a curse- and that I shouldn't let other people's narrow minds and fears determine how I love, what I do, or how I perceive myself in the world. She actually made me believe that in no way, shape, or form did their uninformed opinions make me a freak.

Mine. I'm on my side.

You never know what you have till you've lost it.

...if this Roman dude’s as bad as you say, then why are you lurking outside his store looking all charged and heated like a dog waiting for its owner?

Damen is gorgeous. I know this without looking up. I just focus on my book as he makes his way toward me since I know way too much about my classmates already. So as far as I'm concerned, an extra moment of ignorance really is bliss. But according to the innermost thoughts of Stacia Miller sitting just two rows before me - Damen Auguste is totally smoking hot. Her best friend, Honor, completely agrees. So does Honor's boyfriend, Craig, but that's a whole other story