You want to keep looking?" I asked. "Yeah, maybe." "I'll leave you to it, then." I started for the door. "No." He said it quickly, and reached for my arm, but stopped before he touched me. "I mean, if you're tired, sure, but you don't have to." Derek doesn't want her to leave ♥

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

I might be half Derek's size, but I was the one who sounded like a two-hundred-pound beast plowing through the woods.

I told him what my dad had said. That got him laughing and as we pulled into the school parking lot, even the sight of Rafe waiting for me only made him roll his eyes. We got out. I glanced at Daniel. He sighed. "Go on." "You sound like you're giving a five-year-old permission to play with an unsuitable friend." "If the shoe fits..." I flipped him off. "Watch it or I won't marry you," he said. "Truck of no truck." I laughed and jogged over to Rafe. "Did he just say...?" Rafe began.

A name is so important. A surname connects you to your past, to your family. Even a given name has meaning - why did your parents pick that particular one?

Simon had drawn three pictures. In the top left corner, like a salutation, was a ghost. The middle had a big sketch of Arnold Schwarzenegger as the Terminator. The third in place of a signature, was a lightning bolt surrounded by fog. Beside the drawing, someone had scrawled in inch-high letters 10 A.M. Tori snatched it from me and turned it over. "So where's the message?" "Right there." I pointed from picture to picture. "It says: Chloe, I'll be back, Simon.

That's what being crazy was, wasn't it? You thought you were fine. Everyone else knew better.