Everything, in the end, comes down to timing. One second, one minute, one hour could make all the difference.

Now I felt like I was drifting, sucked down by an undertow, and too far out to swim back to the shore.

But against love, the case was solid. Easily argued. And you could, indeed, hold it in your hand.

talk was cheap and useless. Action was what mattered. And me, I was moving. Now, again, always.

It wasn’t so much that I was positive. I just wasn’t fully subscribing to such a negative way of thinking anymore.

Needing was so easy: it came naturally, like breathing. Being needed by someone else, though, that was the hard part. But as with giving help and accepting it, we had to do both to be made complete-like links overlapping to form a chain, or a lock finding the right key.

I turned and looked into the gas station, where Wes was now paying, as the man who'd driven us looked on. "That's too bad," I said. "It's okay, though," she assured me. "Someday I'll show you an extraordinary boy, Macy. They do exist. You just have to believe me." "Don't worry," I said. "I do.