At first Eric stares at Four in silence. Four stares back.

In the days that follow, it's movement, not stillness, that helps to keep the grief at bay.

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.

We may both be bad, but there’s a huge difference between us—I’m not content with being this way.

I am too strong to break so easily, and I become better, sharper, every time I touch him.

I shift from one foot to the other, trying to get a good look at him. When I finally do, I look away. His eyes were already on me, probably drawn by my nervous movement.

If I let a little of the emotion out, all of it will come out, and it will never end.