Soap operas got nothing on my family history.
Eyes like streams of melting snow, cold with the things she does not know. Heaven above and Hell beneath, liquid flames to hide her grief. Death, death, death with no release. Death, death, death with no release.
Be careful. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to the worst Spanish student in the history of the language.” I laughed. “No problemo.
Oh, shut up. He is not saying that he's too good-looking to be friends with girls. But then again, yesterday at the beach, there were a high percentage of beach beauties sitting very close to us and/or sauntering repeatedly past. And he never looked up once. I snort. "You poor handsome thing. If only you were ugly, then girls wouldn't have to throw themselves at you all the time. I could break your perfect nose for you, if it'd make your life easier.
I will fill myself with the desert and the sky. I will be stone and stars, unchanging and strong and safe. The desert is complete; it is spare and alone, but perfect in its soltitude. I will be the desert.
I open my eyes to see Ry staring at me, and my desert soul erupts with turquoise water, floods and cascades and waterfalls rushing in around my rocky parts, pushing and reshaping and filling every hidden dark spot.
I’ll see you in your dreams, okay, stupid?
It's a good thing we're pretty to look at," I said as Lend sat down on the orange plastic seats next to me. "Because we don't have much else going for us as bowlers.
I'm fine." It's a lie. I am not fine. My head is a symphony of pain, a sadistic master maestro conducting an opus of excruciating, devastating perfecting.
Do you have any sort of plan?” Jack asked. “Not really.” “Eh, just as well. It’ll be less of a disappointment when you fail.
I am the ocean we lived on for two months. I am empty. I am nothing.
I was thinking about framing, and how so much of what we think about our lives and our personal histories revolves around how we frame it. The lens we see it through, or the way we tell our own stories. We mythologize ourselves. So I was thinking about Persephone's story, and how different it would be if you told it only from the perspective of Hades. Same story, but it would probably be unrecognizable. Demeter's would be about loss and devastation. Hades's would be about love.
I thought I’d learn a few new words, but the men were too shocked to even swear this time.
I opened the door and Lend smiled. 'They look better on you.' 'Wow, they must look just awful on you then.' I smiled back.
Reth looked exasperated. “When is something ever not wrong in your life?” I frowned. “That’s my line.
This particular type of human carries weapons slightly more lethal than your beloved pink monstrosity
Jack was balancing a spoon on his nose when I walked in. "You," I said knocking it off his face. "Me!" He answered cheerfully.
The doorknob twisted. “I’m coming with you.” I ran over and held it shut. “No, you are so not. We can’t carry your unconscious body around the Center. Besides, I need you here. If something goes wrong, I can’t handle you getting hurt.” “Wait, so it’s okay if I get hurt?” Jack asked. “Yes,” I snapped at the same time as Lend and Arianna. “As long as you’re sure, then,” Jack muttered.
Survival instincts are one of those things that never die.
-'I don't see what good it's going to do for you to waltz back in there and--' -'Can I tango back in there, instead? So much sexier than the waltz.
I’d been fighting for this relationship since the day I first saw his water eyes.
So, are you two going to get married already or waht?" I laughed. "Excuse me?" Carlee rolled her eyes. "Please. You don't even look at other guys. And I have never seen a guy that crazy about a girl before. You're like, his entire world." I shrugged, smiling. "I can't imagine ever finding someone better than Lend. He just--knows me. Totally. Everything. And miraculously he still likes me." "Likes? Girls, he head-over-heels-freaking-loves you." "It's mutual!
My life is a black hole of boredom and despair." "So basically you've been doing homework." "Like I said, black hole.
Well, that’s interesting,” I said. “What’s interesting?” Jack called from the other room. “Something is interesting?” Lend shouted. “No! Nothing!
In this room I have picked which gun was unloaded out of ten options. And then they pulled the trigger on me. I have picked stocks that went on to skyrocket. I have picked which pencil I would shove into Ms. Robertson’s ear until she kicked me out for thinking about it.
