Let's just say that if you were stealing TVs instead of thoughts, you would have been caught by a half-deaf, mostly blind, fifteen year old dog three robberies ago.

It was Nick's voice Nick's arms. He turned me on my back and swam with me, pulling me to the bank.

I had discovered that there was something more painful than falling in love with someone who hasn't fallen for you; hurting that person-hurting him and not being able to do anything about it.

Then come on up. DO everyone a favor and shut me up," he said. "Put down your money, pick up that ball, and let it fly, looker." "I'd rather not" People laughed. He flapped his arms and squawked like a chicken "Afraid you can't throw that far?" "I know I can" He lifted his hat in a small salute to my claim. Blond curls slipped out, then he plopped the hat back on and said, "I dare you.

Good people were also capable of doing very bad things.

What do you do with your anger when the person you're mad at goes off and dies? Bury it? Bury it inside you?

I took a step back. "Here." He plunked his wet hat on my head. "Don't go anywhere," he told me, then turned away.