You're wrong," I told her. "I lost that faith a long time ago." She looked at me as I said this, an expression of quiet understanding on her face. "Maybe you didn't, though," she said softly. "Lose it, I mean." "Lissa." "No, just hear me out." She looked out at the road for a second, then back at me. "Maybe, you just misplaced it, you know? It's been there. But you just haven't been looking in the right spot. Because lost means forever, it's gone. But misplaced... that means it's still around, somewhere. Just not where you thought.

Sometimes, you get things right the first time. Others, the second. But the third time, they say, is the charm.

In my group of friends, I was always the one who remembered everything. The stories, the boys my friends and I dated, all the details. So I think a part of me was always filing them away, although at the time I wasn't sure why.

A lot can change between planning something and actually doing it. But maybe all that really matters is that anything is different at all.

It doesn't matter, anyway, why you like me. Just that you do.

I seriously doubt that the Santa police do an underwear check." -Cora

So this had been all I wanted, a boy who understood how I felt. Now, though, I sometimes wished for more.