At least no one's trying to kill anyone. Give them about fifteen minutes

red plastic rain her tears stain

The beginning of a book is always the hardest part for me. I'm a Chapter 3 kind of writer, which means I naturally start at Chapter 3.

Because saving the people you love isn't stupid. It isn't even a choice

So why did I think about her every second? Why was I so much happier the minute I saw her? I felt like maybe I knew the answer, but how could I be sure? I didn't know, and I didn't have any way to find out. Guys don't talk about stuff like that. We just lie under the pile of bricks.

It almost felt like she was sucking it all out of me, like she sucked on that sticky red lollipop, the one she kept licking as she drove.

You're so full of crap, you could pass for a toilet.