As the three of them walked home from the trees, nobody needed to say it, but Ama knew. They had questioned their friendship. They had searched and wondered, looking for a sign. And all along they'd had their trees. You couldn't wear them. You couldn't pass them around. They offered no fashion advantage. But they had roots. They lived.

There was a moment in between, a moment flung free in the midst of the transition, when he made contact. That was the moment she would dwell on.

I always interpret coincidences as little clues to our destiny

Knowing where she was in the world, even if he never touched her, gave him a deep satisfaction, and he half despised himself for being satisfied with so little.

She had to have faith not just in trying but in failing. Was she strong enough to fail Was she strong enough not to

I was supposed to write a romantic comedy, but my characters broke up.

She had never had a boy talk to her like that. There was no cover of bullshit, no flirtation, no added charm, but his look was searing. He was different from anyone she had known.