She'd fallen into the best part of her past.

Snow flurries began to fall and they swirled around people's legs like house cats. It was magical, this snow globe world.

Not every man was sorry when he hurt a woman.

Some men you know are Southern before they ever say a word," Julia said as she and Emily watched Sawyer's progress, helpless, almost as if they couldn't look away. "They remind you of something good--picnics or carrying sparklers around at night. Southern men will hold doors open for you, they'll hold you after you yell at them, and they'll hold on to their pride no matter what. Be careful what they tell you, though. They have a way of making you believe anything, because they say it that way.

Blank-slate friendships were thin and temperamental. She knew that. There was no history there to cement people together, for better or worse.

Embarrassment felt a lot like eating chili peppers. It burned in the back of your throat and there was nothing you could do to make it go away. You just had to take it, suffer from it, until it eased off.

She never thought she was good at making friends. But maybe she was just trying to be friends with the wrong people.