Please don't run away. And, um, I'd rather you didn't kick me again either.

How old are you?” she asked. My answer was automatic and ingrained. “Seventeen.” “And how long have you been seventeen?” I tried not to smile at the patronizing tone. “A while,” I admitted. “Okay,” she said, abruptly enthusiastic. She smiled up at me.

I was perfect- not healed, but as if there had never been a wound in the first place

Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

melanie: well, tell him wanda: what will happen then? melanie: you know what will happen. kyle broke the rules. jeb will shoot him, or they'll kick him ou. meybe ian will beat the snot out of him first.that would be fun to watch.

You aren't exactly the best judge of what is or isn't dangerous.

I feel like reading really defined me as a writer because I lived my life outside of my own body for so much of my life and I loved it. I've always been a reader. I think living all those stories served me to naturally take that next step to creating.