Truthfully, he lives right next to the Sexy Tree and I think that's the only thing that bothers me about this whole situation.

It’s like irresistible poison: I’m mesmerized by the way it’s making me feel though it has the potential to crush my soul and I drink it down anyway.

But the heart has a mind of its own and it always gets what it wants, especially when it's dying.

When we pull away, he rests his hand on my thigh pressed next to his and we ride like that for a long time; the only time he moves his hand is to take better control of a sharp curve or to adjust the music, but he always puts it right back. And I always want him to.

I tried to will them with my super mental powers so he’d put them around my waist, but apparently I had no super mental powers.

Coincidence is just a safe conformist for fate.

A bus ride is like being in another world.