“I hate running."
He laughed. "You know what's the best part about running?"
"What?"
"The stopping.”
“Did you finish yours, Kota?"
"Working on it now, Actually."
"How's it going?"
He sat up, turning in his chair and holding up his notebook. "I don't know. What rhymes with formaldehyde?"
My eyes widened. Gabriel laughed, rubbing his fingers against his forehead. "Dude, what kind of poem are you writing?"
Kota blinked at us. "It's about a doctor."
"Does the doctor fall in love?" Gabriel asked.
"No."
"Does someone die?"
"Not in the story, technically."
"What does he do?"
"He performs an autopsy.”
“Good afternoon, class," he said.
I said a soft good afternoon, but no one else in the class joined me.
Dr. Green laughed. "I think my class is missing. Did no one show up today? I'll have to mark everyone as absent. I believe I said good afternoon."
The room chorused a low murmuring of 'good afternoon' in reply.
"This won't do," Dr. Green said. "I'm here to teach you Japanese. I can't very well teach you English, too.”
“Heard you missed me", he said, half turning and looking down at me. The smile on his lips broadened. "And that you're beating up the boys at school in protest to get me to come back. Couldn't let that happen.”
“Marései o trópos pou gelás."
-Silas Korba”
“His eyes lit up again. “Kota was right about you.”
I tilted my head at him. “What did he say?”
“He said there’s this beautiful angel who has her heart on her sleeve and we have to keep her safe.”
“Kimi ga ite shiawase. Koi ni ochite shimatta.”
“You know what’s the best part about running?” “What?” “The stopping.”
“Whispers with our names hovered around us like mosquitoes.”
“Strange where our passions carry us, floggingly pursue us, forcing upon us unwanted dreams, unwelcome destinies.”
“El amor será como el áspero roce de la mejilla de un hombre que araña y rasca...”
“The secret must stay and- according to scientists- the love will live. The heart is quite comfortable with secrets. After all, its home is a dark wet place tucked in among all the other organs who aren't talking either.”
“Elizabeth smiled warmly. "For you I will allow it, Mr. Trask. How is your wife, sir? Still putting up with you, or has she finally come to her senses and run away?"
Trask laughed, slapping his knee. "I see married life has not tamed that wit of yours, Miss Elizabeth! Well done! Your poor hus- band, to be saddled with such a wench!"
Lizzy assumed a mournful face. "Yes, it is a tragic affair. It is merely a matter of time ere a cell at Bedlam will be his home.”
“If he is so evil, why are we standing here watching him?" Sabrina said.
"Cause I'm trying to get up the courage to go over and asking for an autograph," Puck said.”
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