No words for a long time. Which is fine, because even the most important ones-- I love you. I'm sorry. Forgive me? I'm here-- are only stand-ins for what you can say better without talking at all.
No bikinis on a first date.” He nods. “I’m sure that’s a rule. Or should be. For my sisters anyway.
I guess I like things that take time and attention. More worthwhile that way.
This is Sailor Supergirl,” George says. “She knows all about black holes.
Right. Because if you have trouble putting ketchup and mustard on a hot dog, you should totally move on to saving lives.
When I turn back to Jase, he’s again beaming at me. “You’re nice.” He sounds pleased, as if he hadn’t expected this aspect of my personality.
Jase props himself up on an elbow, looking at me for a minute without saying anything. His face gets an unreadable expression, and I wish I could take back walking over. Then he observes, “I’m guessing that’s a uniform.” Crap. I’d forgotten I was still wearing it.
The right thing to do is so easy to see when you're seventeen years old and don't have to make any big decisions. When you know that no matter what you do, someone will take care of you and fix everything. But when you're grown up, the world is not that black and white, and the right thing doesn't a tidy little arrow pointing to it.
