Not every man was sorry when he hurt a woman.

Her life was monotonous, but it kept her out of trouble. . . . This, her father would say, was called being an adult.

Misfits need a place to get away, too. All that trying to fit in is exhausting.

Fate never promises to tell you everything up front. You aren't always shown the path in life you're supposed to take. But if there was one thing she'd learned in the past few weeks, it was that sometimes, when you're really lucky, you meet someone with a map.

Sometimes you weren't supposed to share pain. Sometimes it was best just to deal with it alone.

The area was encompassed in a bubble of warm, fragrant steam from the funnel cake deep fryers. It smelled like sweet vanilla cake batter you licked off a spoon.

He'd always been fascinated by her, drawn to her the way curious people are always drawn to things they don't understand.