Susan was very fun to be around. She liked movies, and her brother Frank made her tapes of this great music that she shared with us. But over the summer she had her braces taken off, and she got a little taller and prettier and grew breasts. Now, she acts a lot dumber in the hallways, especially when boys are around. And I think it's sad because Susan doesn't look as happy.

So, I looked up, and we were in this giant dome like a glass snowball, and Mark said that the amazing white stars were really only holes in the black glass of the dome, and when you went to heaven, the glass broke away, and there was nothing but a whole sheet of star white, which is brighter than anything but doesn't hurt your eyes. It was vast and open and thinly quiet, and I felt so small.

I was looking at the photographs and I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories.

I guess when you see somebody in the hallway or on the field or something, it's nice to know that they are a real person.

I just wish that God or my parents or Sam or my sister or someone would just tell me what's wrong with me. Just tell me how to be different in a way that makes sense. To make this all go away.

And even if she says no, and really means yes, then quite frankly she's playing games and isn't worth the price of dinner.

Patrick started running after the sunset. And Sam immediately followed him. And I saw them in silhouette. Running after the sun.