...the sound of our lack of conversation amplified by the echo of our footsteps on the stone around us.

My friend is having his period," I told the pizza guy, and handed him his tip. "He needs Britney and extra cheese to get him through it. I'm trying to be supportive.

Don't panic. Are you sitting? You probably don't need to sit. Well, possibly. At least lean on something.

Write the book you've always wanted to read, but can't find on the shelf.

"Grace," I said, my vision swirling now because of her blood smeared across my wrists, "Can you hear me?" She nodded then stumbled to her knees. I knelt beside her; her eyes were huge and afraid and my heart was breaking. "I'll come find you, I said. "I promise I'll come find you. Don't forget me. Don't-don't lose yourself."

Books are more real when you read them outside.

Or even tell me it's because you could not live without The Boy's stunning Boyfruits for another night..." Sam's face was twisted into a weird shape at the mention of his Boyfruits.