Hello toes," I say. They're good toes. I like that they're long and slender and not the slightest bit stubby. I wiggle them, ten unstubby waves that say, "And hello to you, Human Host!" Except they're toes. I'm talking to my toes. Maybe I'm not bored... maybe I'm lonely?

Christmas is never over,unless you want it to be... Christmas is a state of mind.

Curse false-hand-holding boys!

Every girl on the planet was familiar to one-last-time e-mail checks.

Yes, that man acted ugly," she told us in plain English. "But throwing more ugliness back at him ain't the answer.

You have to be nicer to me," I said. Again he laughed. "What? I'm the King of nice. What are you talking about?" "You have to be nicer to me or... or..." "Or what?" he said. Still Lars, still charming and jokey, but with a thread of fear. It snaked in and pierced my numbness and almost broke my resolve. Almost, but not quite. "Or I have ti break up with you." I whispered What was there more to say? Nothing. So I hung up.

Is he a sophomore?" Lydia says. "Please tell me he's in our grade." "I don't know," I say. "But weren't you there when he came to the office?" Peyton says. "The secretary didn't get out her bullhorn and announce what grade he's in. She just took him to meet Headmaster Perkins.