You still have," I looked at my watch, "twelve seconds to change your mind. Find someone else and save your reputation." One side of his lip cricked up. "I found you. I'll take my chances.

...When I asked [my dad why the sky was blue] he said it was because God's a boy. If God were a girl, the sky would be pink. 'What about sunrise and sunset?' I'd asked. Dad had looked dumbfounded. 'You kids. You think too much.' It frightened me how shallow the gene pool was that Liam and I were wading in.

She responds by kissing me harder and longer and deeper. She loves me too. She's just afraid.

His invitation lingers. So does my question. Why me? I don't know the answer. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a starving, stunted bird who never grew wings and lost all reason to sing.

Your failures and your faults, they stick with you. They glob into ugly, cancerous growths inside you and make you want to die.

I want to tell them, "Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person.

Stop trying to save me. You couldn't then; you can't now.