Terry was beside himself. Not literally. This story would be that much more painful if there were two Terrys, able to stand next to each other and simultaneously curse Leven.

Mercury dropped the purple car and shot up into the air, whistling like a shooting star. The woman in the car next to me looked up at me like I was a superhero. I smiled at her and jumped down, trying to be smooth. I landed wrong and went sliding on my face. I glanced back at her. She appeared less impressed than before.

You seem to be attracted to trouble," he said. "Yeah, she's real pretty," I replied. "Your tongue is sharper than mine ever was." I stuck out my tongue and tried to look at the tip of it.

Not likely. Dreams are pretty and usually involve horses or rainbows or castles, or big-

I'm man enough to know when to scream.

There is nothing quite as painful as a truly awkward silence.

Don't predict disappointment while hope is an option