It was a little weird that they were friends. But then, maybe freaks just tended to find each other.

You can help each other, Max, said the unwelcome voice. You're perfect complements to each other. "Shut up!" I hissed under my breath, and Dylan looked startled. "I didn't say anything." Gritting my teeth, I nodded. "No, I know. It's just-" I decided to take a risk and stare him down. "I hear voices, okay? If you're gonna be here, get used to it. Or else keep your distance.

Basically, I have two speeds.... Hostile or smart-aleck. Your choice.

Okay, that so did me in. Mr. Rock being all emotional? Expressing his feelings?" p. 12

Pain is a message, and you can choose to ignore that message.

Then I found it: the source of the blood, the place where he'd been shot. 'Total?' I said, and I got a slight whimper. 'You have a boo-boo on your tail.

I moved to leave, and Dylan actually grabbed my shoulders. I was so surprised that i forgot to karate-chop his elbows and break his arms.' “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said urgently. “What you want does not matter here,” I said slowly and carefully. I hoped Dylan was sensitive enough to read between the lines, to the subtext of: Let go of me or I’ll kill you.