I was just teasing," I say. "I myself don't like to eat plain butter, but hey, it's a free world.

And books are such an empowering way to give voice to some of these kids who aren't yet ready to tell their story. Or don't know what their story is, or are trying to figure it out.

There's something strange about this big pink bunny.

Kids are smart. Knowledge is power. Let them figure things out. Don't turn into that grown-up who they won't come to.

I didn't like being alone. Being alone was slightly better than having to deal with people, that's all. Or so I'd convinced myself.

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.

My angel-boy is close now, as in five-feet-away close. There's no way I'm going to burst into song in front of him. But then the contrary part of me says, you're going to let a boy keep you from singing out loud? Sing, sister! Sing! So I do, and my angel-boy turns his head.