You are so obtuse!" Brontë says, exasperated. I am calm in my response. "Do you mean stupid, or angular? You need to be more specific with your insults.

We want what you no longer want.

Getting to know someone in blind darkness changes your impression of them.

That's what law is: educated guesses at right and wrong.

When you truly start to care about someone you become vulnerable to all sorts of things.

This book is so interesting. I always wonder what's going to happen next.

Fine," Connor tells him. "Think about stuff until your head explodes. But the only thing I want to think about is surviving to eighteen." I find your shallowness both refreshing and disappointing at the same time. Do you think that means I need therapy?