Did you seriously just stamp your foot? I thought girls only did that on TV.

After all, how many ways can one heart be mangled and still be expected to keep beating?

So what you're saying is, I'm your brand of heroin?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled swiftly, seeming to appreciate my effort. "Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin.

I felt like - like I don't know what. Like this wasn't real. Like I was in some Goth version of a bad sitcom. Instead of being the A/V dweeb about to ask the head cheerleader to the prom, I was the finished-second-place werewolf about to ask the vampire's wife to shack up and procreate. Nice. - Jacob

My money's on the big Indian,' someone was saying. I peeked up to see that Tyler, Mike, Austin and Ben had there heads bent together, deep in conversation. 'Yeah,' Mike whispered. 'Did you see the size of that Jacob kid? I think he could take Cullen down.' Mike seemed pleased by the idea.

Are you referring to the fact that you can't walk across a flat, stable surface without finding something to trip over?

He squeezes my hand, and my heart punches against my ribs. It's just like pain, this pleasure.