Boys suck. Even when they have perfect blue eyes and ridiculously cool trucks. Maybe especially then.

I can't seem to keep my heart from leaking out of the cracks, like sand clutched in a fist.

I still had an irrational desire to do an interpretive dance about rainbows, but it was a small price to pay for being healed.

Re-forming after the chaos,” I said, remembering Raquel’s words. “Choosing what we’ll do with how things are now, who we’ll be in this new world where the only magic left is what we make ourselves.

My heart is sand and Orion's cruel tide has washed it away from me, scattered it, lost it.

Oh, shut up. He is not saying that he's too good-looking to be friends with girls. But then again, yesterday at the beach, there were a high percentage of beach beauties sitting very close to us and/or sauntering repeatedly past. And he never looked up once. I snort. "You poor handsome thing. If only you were ugly, then girls wouldn't have to throw themselves at you all the time. I could break your perfect nose for you, if it'd make your life easier.

-'I don't see what good it's going to do for you to waltz back in there and--' -'Can I tango back in there, instead? So much sexier than the waltz.