A Mexican guy named Sam pushes Gary Frankel next to Isabel. "This guy can break your arm with one snap, asshole. Get out of my sight before I sic him on you," Sam says. Gary, who's wearing a coral shirt and white pants, growls to look tough. It doesn't work.

I want to hold you, Nikki. Will you let me?

Get a grip, Dad. I'm not going to do anything you wouldn't do at my age.' He stands up and says, 'That's it. You're canceling this date.

God take care of him, because he's my past and my future

Luis is right there.” I point to the corner of the yard, where my little brother is the centre of attention doing imitations of barnyard animals. I have yet to inform him that talent isn’t as much of a chick magnet when you get into junior high.

I now know why people break up in e-mails and text messages. Doing it face-to-face is so hard because you have to stand in front of the person and witness their reaction. Face their wrath.

Running should be saved for the times when you're being chased.