God, was I going to have another day of painful thoughts jumping me every time I relaxed? The obvious solution—to just not relax—was kind of sucking.

His shoulder bumped mine again. "Can I ask you something?" I didn't answer. He was going to ask me anyway. People don't say that if they don't want to pry something out of you.

It truly sucks to doubt your friends when you only have one or two of them, I realized.

The smell of apple pies didn't quite fill the house, but it was there, a thread under everything else. It was kind of hard to take Christophe seriously when he smelled like baked goods. I wondered if other djampjir smelled like Hostess Twinkies and sniggered to myself.

I guess since the groin is the center of a guy's world, he rarely guesses it isn't the center of yours.

Oh, the testosterone. You could have cut it with a cafeteria spoon.

And you know, I believed him. What girl wouldn't?