Every Heart Has Its Own Melody.

She Took Out A Shiny Folded Pamphlet, The Kind They Kept Stacked In Clear Plastic Stands In Hospital Waiting Rooms. "how To Come Out To Your Parents," She Read Out Loud. "luke. Don't Be Ridiculous. Simon's Not Gay, He's A Vampire.

Don't You Hate It? Not Ever Saying How You Really Feel?

Being Sixteen Forever Sounded Good Until You Really Thought About It. Then It Didn't Seem Like Such A Great Prospect.

So You’re Suggesting We Take The Train Up To York, Meet A Ninety-year-old Man, Leap On Him, And Yank Out His Hair? I’m Sure The Clave Will Be Ecstatic.” “they’ll Just Say You’re Mad,” Said Jessamine. “they Already Think It, So What’s The Difference, Really?

[...] He Tasted Like Snowflakes And Wine, Like Winter And Will And London.