There's this book," Jared said. "And in this book a guy said that he would rather touch someones hand if she was dead than another girl who was alive. It's creepy. I know that." He was staring off into space, as if at some private nightmare. "Nothing matters in comparison. Nobody is real but her. So it feels sometimes as if nothing else matters at all, including other people. She wouldn't like that. Other people SHOULD matter." *** So he loved Kami.

He had called girls to him before. There was nothing so easy whether you were walking into a classroom, a club, or down the street. All you had to do was send out the right signals, give her the right look, turn your body the right way, and never for a moment let it cross your mind that she might not be interested.

Being able to depend on someone doesn't mean you're dependent on them.

Do you mean am I worried about people seeing me with my jeans off? Sure. Sometimes people are overcome. They fall down. They hit their heads. It's worrying.

It is always about you for me.

Technically speaking, you drive like a rabid chicken who has hijacked a tractor.

Angela spared a glare for Kami, and then resumed her marathon glaring session at Jared. 'It's too weird. I'm going to call you Carl.' Jared scowled. 'I don't want you to call me Carl.' 'That's interesting, Carl,' said Angela, cheering up.