May the peace of God be with you," she says, her voice low, "even in the midst of trouble." "Why would it?" I say softly, so no one else can hear. "After all I've done..." "It isn't about you," she says. "It is a gift. You cannot earn it, or it ceases to be a gift.

I'm sick of doing bad things and liking it and then wondering what's wrong with me. I want it to be over. I want to start again.

There is a reason you don’t know all the things I know. -Marcus Eaton

Any idiot can stand in front of a target," I say. "It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall is a sign of cowardice" "Then it should be easy for you," Eric sys. "If you're willing ot take his place.

I know that I'll be writing for young adults for a long time. Mostly because I just love the readers and the teachers and librarians that I interact with.

What is it with you today?” says Christina on the way to breakfast. Her eyes are still swollen from sleep and her tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around her face. “Oh, you know,” I say. “Sun shining. Birds chirping.” She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an underground tunnel.

His hand touches my waist, steadies me. The touch sends a shock through my body, and all my insides burn like his fingers ignited them. I pull close to him, pressing my body against his, and lift my head to kiss him.