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You think I need to be rescued? I think it doesn't hurt to let someone else do the rescuing every now and then, when your own armor starts to get banged up.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Need
Rescuing
Needs
Rescued
Armor
Every
Starts
Think
Hurt
Thinking
Doesn
Else
Someone
Banged

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I should have mixed something stronger than Coke floats.
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He sank into that kiss, and fed from me like a starving man holding off famine. I drank from his soul in preparation for the drought to come. And when he finally pulled away, my throat was thick with unspoken words, my heart heavy with every apology I'd ever denied him. But it was too late for promises. The time had come for goodbye.
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Had I just begged for an audience with Death?
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The problem with getting everything you want in life is that you're not prepared for disappointment when it comes.
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I want you. I want only you. I want all of you. But I'll take whatever you're ready to give.
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There's pressure, but that's true no matter who you are or what you do.
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He took both of my hands, twisting to face me more fully on the flattened box beneath us, and again the colors in his irises seemed to pulse with my heartbeat.
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Regret couldn't fix what he's broken. Apologies couldn't bring back what he's lost. What we'd lost.
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It's kind of like when a clock battery runs down. The hour and minute hands don't disappear, but they don't keep ticking either. They freeze on the last minute they measured.
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Em didn't truly understand about my panic attacks - no one did. But she'd never pushed me to explain, never tried to ditch me when things got weird, and never once looked at me like I was a freak.
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As a matter of fact, I was going to offer you something.” “What did you have in mind?” A field trip. You interested in doing something dangerous, and possibly illegal?” “Does it involve underage girls, broken curfews and assorted fruit toppings?
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I held her tighter, just because I could. Because she was fierce, and beautiful, and mind.
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I want you. I want you so badly I can’t stand it. When you left, it felt like the world got darker. Like I couldn’t truly see anything. Couldn’t feel anything.
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There’s an us?” “As far as I’m concerned…” He leaned forward, his mouth inches from mine, and my pulse spiked. “There’s nothing but us.
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But I had no plans to end my own life, and accidents couldn't be predicted. Neither could murder, unless my aunt and uncle were planning to take me out themselves.
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The school sent you flowers. I’m sure that totally makes up for the fact that they hired the psychotic, soul-stealing pedophile who murdered you in your own home.
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If I weren't already dead, I'd be alive with joy.
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I'd just stepped out of the kiddie pool and into the deep end, with no floaties. And drowning was not an option.
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10:38 AM - Third period. Kaylee has no class this period. I have no one to kill. Coincidence, or fate?
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