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.

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.

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.

Right. Because if you have trouble putting ketchup and mustard on a hot dog, you should totally move on to saving lives.

This is Sailor Supergirl,” George says. “She knows all about black holes.