I got to eavesdrop at a window. As Clay said, I did have another option. I could wait in the car and let them fill me in later. So, eavesdropping it was.

Life experience. I can talk it up, vow to broaden my horizons, but I’m still limited to the experiences with my life. How can a person understand an experience that lies completely outside her own? She can see it, feel it, imagine what it would be like to live it, but it’s no different from seeing a movie on a screen and saying, “Thank God that’s not me”.

Wow. The guy can make me feel stupid even when he's telling me I don't have to let him make me feel stupid.

You wanna fight?" I asked. He looked up at me and, for just a second, hesitated, then said, "Yeah. I do." "Well, I'll save you the trouble. You win.

A stereotype becomes a stereotype when a significant percentage of the population appears to conform to it.

Still sitting, he reached out and pulled me toward him. We stayed there, looking at each other, his hand still wrapped in my shirt hem, my heart hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it. when I inched closer, not wanting to intrude, he tugged me in front of him and I stumbled, half falling onto his lap. I tried to scramble up, cheeks burning, but he pulled me down onto his knee, one army going around my waist, tentative, as if to say Is this okay? It was, even if my blood pounded in my ears so hard I couldn't think.

Nuh-uh. No deals with the devil. I’ve learned my lesson on that one. ~Jaime Vegas