Outward appearances mean everything.

You're stressing too much about what might be. Do something to take your mind off thinking about what might never happen.

I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck. "Whoa, girl," he says taken aback. "I thought we were keepin' this thing between us a secret. I hate to tell you, but a bunch of north siders from Fairfield are right over there. And they're starin' at us" "I don't care. Not anymore" "Why" "You only live once

I want to live life on my own terms.

I cry a lot.' 'Yeah? Well I'm gonna change that.

That’s not the only reason I’m stayin’, chica. I can’t leave you any more than I could walk out that door right now while my leg is busted up. I was just thinkin’ . . . should we tell your parents now or later?” “Tell them what?” I ask, eyes wide. He kisses me softly, then says proudly, “That we’re in a serious, monogamous, committed relationship.” “We are?” “Sí. And when I get out of here, I’m gonna fix the door to your car.

I've had more students die than I ever thought possible. My husband urges me to quit Fairfield and teach at some school without gang members who live their lives only to die or end up as drug dealers.