“Everyone has that one line they swear they'll never cross, the one thing they say they'll never do. Not something serious like I'll never kill anyone or I'll never invade Russia in the winter. Usually, it's something less earth-shattering.
I'll never cheat on her.
I'll never work at a job I hate.
I'll never give up on my dreams.
We draw the line. Maybe we even believe it. That's why it's so hard when we break that promise we make to ourselves.
Sage Hendricks was my line.”
“Sage would survive. I'd survive. We were better off apart. Painful and quick, just like ripping off a Band-Aid. Well, more like gouging a piece of shrapnel out of my stomach, pouring a bottle of gin into the wound, lighting it on fire, and sewing my guts up with a dirty bootlace. But the concept was the same.”
“She baked you cookies!' he repeated as if I'd missed the importance.
'So what?' I turned to get my bag, but Tim blocked my way.
'She wants to have your babies.”
“We just stood there for a few seconds. Back when we were friends, we'd have already been laughing and joking. Now things were tense and awkward. There was no way I could ever be relaxed around this person again. To me, Sage would never be just Sage. She'd be Sage-the-boy-who-pretended-to-be-a-girl-and-who-I-kissed-that-one-time. No friendship could survive with that many hyphens.”
“all that greedy or self-absorbed. Sage’s father, cruel as he was, only wanted his son back. Tammi just wanted a sister. I wanted a “normal” girlfriend. And Sage—all she wanted was to be herself. I”
“It was obvious—let alone the morality of it; without reducing corruption, we could never hope to become a rich country. Yes, we need new laws like the Lokpal. Yes,”
“The kitchen clock above the sink ticked. Wendy could look out the window and see the undergrads walking to class, all animated, young, with the clichéd rest of their lives waiting around the corner. Next year, Charlie would be one of them. You could tell these kids that it will go faster than they think, that they will blink and college will be gone and then ten years and another ten, but they won’t listen, can’t listen, and maybe that’s a good thing. “I”
“Three guys and a girl were leaning against a black raised pickup ... I had to do a double take as this group was nothing like I had ever seen before.”
“I just wanted you to know that it’s not you. It’s me. It’s all me, and if I push you away it’s because I don’t know how to pull you close. I’m not . . . I’m not good with people.”
“I can promise you books and conversation and all my heart.”
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