We'd stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first. You'd think that would make us feel brave and invincible. It didn't.

His heart, the war. Her face, the battlefield.

I start to unbutton his shirt. "Got to get these clothes off," I mutter. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that." Smile. Lopsided. Sexy.

And red is not the color of apples or roses or the dresses that pretty girls wear in the summertime. That is not the color of red at all.

Then the door flew open and Mr. Faulks told us to head over to the gym. I thought that was really smart. Get all of us in one place so the aliens didn't have to waste a lot of ammunition.

You know how sometimes you tell yourself that you have a choice, but really you don't have a choice? Just because there are alternatives doesn't mean they apply to you.

But hope is no less realistic than despair. It is still our choice whether to live in light or lie down in darkness.