It was psychological trick called empathic listening. You say what the person is feeling so they feel understood.

I'm a grenade and at some point I'm going to blow up and I would like to minimize the casualties, okay?

Indiana,’ he said. ‘They steal the land from the Indians and leave the name, yes?

Mom sobbed something into Dad's chest that I wish I hadn't heard, and that I hope she never finds out that I did hear. She said, "I won't be a mom anymore." It gutted me pretty badly.

And I vaguely remember her smiling at me from the door way the glittering ambiguity of a girls smile, which seems to promise an answer to the question, but never gives it. The question, the one we’ve all been asking since girls stopped being gross, the question that is to simple to be uncomplicated: Does she like me or does she LIKE me?

That deep, can-still-taste-her-in-my-mouth sleep.

She's cute, I thought, but you don't need to like a girl who treats you like you're ten: You've already got a mom.