God, I am freaking out. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe I just look guilty of something and he’s picking up on that.

Fun drunks make a nice addition to any party. Not looking to fight. Not looking to score. Just looking to get drunk and laugh.

And it feels strange, almost sad, to walk through ther empty halls. Each step I take sounds so lonely.

And concentrating on the spot where the two spindles should be is the closest I get to looking Hannah's eyes as she tells my story.

That’s when I said it. That’s when I whispered to her, “I’m so sorry.” Because inside, I felt so happy and sad at the same time. Sad that it took me so long to get there. But happy that we got there together.

I could picture life—school and everything else—continuing on without me. But I could not picture my funeral. Not at all. Mostly because I couldn’t imagine who would attend or what they would say.

Hannah wasn't my first kiss, but the first kiss that mattered: the first kiss with someone who mattered. (pg 222).