She tries to turn too soon, and the ladder smacks into Fernando's shoulder. "Oh! Sorry, Nando." The jolt knocks his glasses askew. He smiles at Christina and takes the glasses off, shoving them into his pocket. "Nando?" I say to him. "I thought the Erudite didn't like nicknames?" "When a pretty girl calls you by a nickname," he says, "it is only logical to respond to it.

Shh,” I say. “Arms around me.” Obediently, he slips both arms around my waist. I smile at the wall. I am not enjoying this. I am not, not even a little bit, no.

Sorry, am I being rude?" she asks. "I'm used to saying whatever is on my mind. Mom used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging

Leave her out of this" "Why? Because you're doing her? Oh wait, I forgot. Stiffs don't do that sort of thing

Sometimes I see him as just another person, and sometimes I feel the sight of him in my gut, like a deep ache.

Maybe I was afraid to trust him with something so personal as my devotion.

I note how calm she looks and how focused she is. She is well-practiced in the art of losing herself. I can't say the same of myself.