I'd never really thought past the whole dying-for-the-sake-of-the-world part of things. When you're alive, you don't dwell on how you're going to spend your time once you're dead. You just figure you're gone, and the rest will pretty much take care of itself.

Even in the slippery blur of heat and arms and noise, Lena affected everything in her wake, a pull as powerful as the moon to the tides, or the planets to the sun. I was caught in her orbit, even as she pulled away from mine.

The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.” “Elton John?” “Close. Ernest Hemingway. In his own way, sort of the rock star of his time.

The good and the bad, the sugar and the salt, the kicks and the kisses—what’s come before and what will come after, you and me—

Even when I didn't know anything else about where I was or what I was supposed to be doing. You were my Wayward, even then. Everything always brought me back to you. Everything.

I would love to say how nice it is to see you again, but that would be a lie. And I am nothing if not honest.

I saw his face change. His eyes widen. He lunged at me. I wouldn't let go. We stared into eachother's eyes and clawed at eachother's throats. As we rolled over the edge of the water tower and fell the whole way down, I was only thinking one thing ...Lena