That's how you know you really trust someone, I think; when you don't have to talk all the time to make sure they still like you or prove that you have interesting stuff to say.

I didn't 'decide' to write YA, per se. But every time I thought of a story, it featured characters 15, 16, 17.

No one measures a life in weeks and days. You measure life in years and by the things that happen to you.

I remember being in high school and listening to Vivaldi's 'Winter' and being so overwhelmed with emotion.

Ethan and I are done," I said finally. "I'm sorry." "He was my first boyfriend." "I know." "The only real boyfriend I've had. I'm a senior in high school and he was my only real boyfriend." "I know." "And I won't find another one at Jones Hall. That is guaranteed." "Okay." "This is all very sad and tragic," I said. Alan unwrapped a sleeve of Smarties. "Yet, oddly, you don't seem that upset." "I know.

Life needed a fast forward button. Because there were days you just don't want to live through, not again, but they kept coming around and you were powerless to stop time or speed it up or do anything to keep from having to face it.

It's as if once you hit high school, you're programmed, like a robot, to be an asshole to your parents.