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

People fear anyone who differs from what is considered normal, and in a small town the idea of normal can be as narrow as the streets.

Sometimes I think that love is one big fairy tale. I wonder if people who say they are in love, if – really – they’ve just talked themselves into it. They want it so badly, they kind of make it happen. They fake it until they start believing their own story. Maybe that’s just sour grapes or something. Maybe because it doesn’t happen to me, I don’t want to think it happens to anyone else.

You've grown up, girl. You've grown up real nice, Welcome home

Who's that little brunette?" Suzanne asked. "I hate little petite types. Gregory doesn't look right with someone petite. Little face, little hands, little dainty feet." "Big boobs," Beth said, glancing up.

It's been my experience," he continued, "that when you're with the right people, you feel more like yourself than ever. There's a happiness, and a feeling of coming alive to yourself and the other person, that's like nothing else.

old grudges and bitterness always hurt the individual more than the one whom he believes injured him.