I could only stare, any sense that maybe I understood him evaporating as it always did. I'd glimpse something underneath, and he'd snatched it away so fast it left bruises that called me a fool for hoping for more.

Storytelling is my passion, and it rises from a love of reading.

And stop doing that,” he said. “Backing away, giving me that look.” Like you’re scaring me? Maybe you are.” He stepped back so fast he wobbled and caught himself, and the look on his face—It vanished in a second, the scowl returning. I’d never hurt you, Chloe. You should know—” He stopped. Paused. Then wheeled and started walking away. “Next time? Handle it yourself. I’m done taking care of you.

The secretary moved in to block Simon as I followed Thierry into the office. As the door closed, I heard her whisper, "I think it's very sweet, you sticking up for your brother like that." "I'm not trying to be sweet," Simon said, raising his voice so Thierry could hear. "I'm trying to be fair. But apparently no one's interested in that.

Maturity is highly overrated.

Young writers need to be encouraged to write - just write - with no restrictions on form, style or content.

It was completely fifth garde and completely silly and I loved it, because he wasn't afraid to be silly. It was like kissing him first - I could do whatever I wanted and not have to worry what he'd think of me.