I liked it. I liked her. And every time I saw her, she seemed more beautiful. She just seemed to glow. I'm not talking like a hundred-watt bulb; she just had this warmth to her. Maybe it came from climbing that tree. Maybe it came from singing to chickens. Maybe it came from whacking at two-by-fours and dreaming about perpetual motion. I don't know. All I know is that compared to her, Shelly and Miranda seemed so...ordinary.

I am a runner. That's what I do. That's who I am. Running is all I know, or want, or care about.

Turn down a chance to feel magic for fear of a little dirt?

...Next time you're faced with a choice, do the right thing. It hurts everyone less in the long run.

Aw, he's just you know...entrenched," Matt said. "Gotta adjust to the perspective and deal from there." Then he added, "Not that I'd want him as my dad...." Mike practically sprayed his milk. "Dude! Can you imagine?" Then Matt gave my dad a slap on the back and said, "No way. I'm sticking with my main man here." My mom grinned from across the kitchen and said, "Me too." I'd never seen my father cry. And he didn't exactly sit there bawling, but there were definitely tears welling up in his eyes.

I had liked him for all the wrong reasons.

Surely, I thought, a few bushes and some dilapidated wood couldn't stop someone's best and brightest blessing! Surely not!