It was considerably larger than a knife hilt.

How is it that I'd nearly been smothered to death, and yet I could sit there and notice things like my stepbrother's abdominal muscles a few minutes later?

Home. Wow. I’m already calling it home. Well, isn’t that what any place is? Any place that you share with someone you love, I mean?

I stare at her, as dumbstruck as if she'd just admitted she's a Scientologist with an invitation to join Tom and Katie on the spaceship when it shows up.

Nice to know I have that effect on boys. I mean, Christopher doesn't even know I exist, and Brandon Stark practically throws up when he sees me. Having my brain transplated into a supermodel's body was doing wonders for my love life.

...men aren't in touch with their emotions, and don't share enough [?]

I usually know almost exactly how I feel. The problem is, I just can't tell anyone.