Cooking isn’t taught,” Patch said. “It’s inherent. Either you’ve got it or you don’t. Like chemistry. You think you’re ready for chemistry?” I pressed the knife down through the tomato; it split in two, each half rocking gently on the cutting board. “You tell me. Am I ready for chemistry?” Patch made a deep sound I couldn’t decipher and grinned.

Anything was better than nothing. Half-full was better than empty. Ignorance was the lowest form of humiliation and suffering.

It was bad enough when I thought your ghost was haunting me; I don't think I could handle the real thing.

Do you ever think of moving back?" "To Coldwater? Heck, no. England suits me fine. These Brits love my accent. The first time Gavin asked me out it was just to hear me talk. Lucky for him, it's one of the things I do best." All teasing left her eyes. "Too many memories back home. Can't drive down the street without thinking I see Scott in the crowd.

She already has a car.” “A Ford. That’s like Toyota’s worst enemy.

Science is an investigation," Coach said, sanding his hands together. "Science requires us to transform into spies." Put that way, science almost sounded fun. But I'd been in Coach's class long enough not to get my hopes up.

But if the choice I have to make comes down to you or me, I choose you. I always have. All my love, Patch