It's just the end of some things. And the beginning of others.
Once you read something, you can't erase it from your brain.
Dreams happen in the strangest places. Watch for them.
I know i'll screw up. But i'll keep trying, as long as you let me.
Maybe you don't have to remember something for it to be true. For it to exist.
She sits in the driveway, freezing, for thirty-six minutes. Arguing with herself. Because she thinks she's in love with him too. And there are two ways she can be a fool in love right now. She chooses the harder one. And knocks on the door.
There's something about a guy who admits he's a jerk that makes him forgiveable.
Janie. Does not like. To be called. Buffy.
Janie blinks and leans against the wall, just in case. But it's no one's dream. It's just the end of some things. And the beginning of others.
Janies lips part in surprise. She takes it. Feels really strange about opening it in front of him. She wets her lips and examines the box and the ribbon that surounds it. "Thank you." She says softly. "Um..." He clears his throat, "The gift, see is actually inside the box. The box is like an extra bonus gift.It's how we do things here on planet Earth.
And then they kiss. Slowly, gently. Because with the right person, sometimes kissing feels like healing.
That was the goth stage, where I decided I'd never get the girl of my dreams because of my scars. Not to mention my hairstyle. (pause) But then she slammed a door handle into my gut. And when a girl does that to a boy, it means she likes him.
The Thickety is a sinister, magical debut with a marvelous and shocking heroine. J.A. White’s elegant writing and masterful plot kept me turning pages late into the night.
Time to stop crying, time to get her act together and do something. Time to move beyond the pity party.
And he's pressing into her and she into him, bodies shivering, like they are two scared, lost children, starving, starving to be touched, to be held, by someone, anyone, the first one they can find who seems familiar enough, safe enough, strong enough to rescue them. They breathe, heavy. Hard. Their fingers strain at cotton. And then they slow down. Stop. Hold. Rest. Before one of them, or both, begins to sob. Before they break another piece that needs to be fixed.
They linger near the back door, forehead to forehead and curved like statues as their lips whisper and brush together.
Oh baby," he whispers. Steps back. Out of the doorway. His face ashen. He walks slowly back to the kitchen. Leans over the counter. Puts his head in his hands. His hair falls over his fingers. The bathroom door clicks shut. She stays there for a long time. He's pulling his hair out.
Do you still love me, Janie?' Janie stares at him, incredulous. 'Yes, of course! I don't say it lightly.' 'Say it lightly in my ear,' he demands. She smiles, rests her soft cheek on his scratchy one, and whispers it. 'I love you, Cabe.
Carrie doesn't seem to talk about anything with sharp edges. Maybe she's afraid they might poke her and then she'd burst.
No rash decisions. No big commitments. Each day as it comes.
Janie: So you're a double agent? Cabel: Sure.That sounds sexy.
Cabel gives her a quizzical look. "I am totally not getting enough attention here.
But then you slammed a door handle into my gut. And when a girl does that to a guy; it means she likes him.
Janie calls Cabel. "Hi, uh, Mom," she says. Cabel snorts. "Hello, dear. Did you make it through the blizzard?" "Yeah. Barely." Janie grins into the phone.
Hippie said he couldn't stay. Be back tomorrow -Love,Mom
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