As I was walking up the stairs to dad's old room, and I was looking at the photographs, I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories. That someone actually took the photograph, and the people in the photograph had just eaten lunch or something.

Sam has brown hair and very, very pretty green eyes. The kind of green that doesn't make a big deal about itself.

I guess I'm pretty emotional.

Sam and Patrick looked at me. And I looked at them. And I think they knew. Not anything specific really. They just knew. And I think that's all you can ever ask from a friend.

There are rules you follow here not because you want to, but because you have to.

More like the movie where the guy meets a smart girl who wears a lot of sweaters and drinks cocoa. They talk about books and issues and kiss in the rain.

I wish I could stop being in love with Sam. I really do.