The Evolution of Mara Dyer

If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one.

This was the boy I loved. A little bit messy. A little bit ruined. A beautiful disaster. Just like me.

Everyone is a little crazy. The only difference between us and them is that they hide it better.

You’re stronger than you believe. Don’t let your fear own you. Own yourself.

I’m too selfish to leave you,” I said. Noah pulled back so I could see his smile. “I’m too selfish to let you.

My brother cleared his throat. "I wish she knew that I think she is the most hilarious person on Earth. And that whenever she's not home, I feel like I'm missing my partner in crime." My throat tightened. Do not cry. Do not cry. "I wish she knew that she's really Mom's favorite--" I shook my head here. "--the princess she always wanted. That Mom used to dress her up like a little doll and parade her around like Mara was her greatest achievement. I wish Mara knew that I never minded, because she's my favorite too.

I’ll walk forever with stories inside me that the people I love the most can never hear.

Sometimes, the biggest secrets you can only tell a stranger.

We are far too screwed up for a goddamned love triangle.

They rattled my cage to see if I'd bite. When they released me, they'd see that the answer was yes.

I did something brave, then. Or stupid. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.

You can't hurt me the way you think you can. But even if you could? I would rather die with the taste of you on my tongue than live and never touch you again. I'm in love with you, Mara. I love you. No matter what you do.

You will love him to ruins.

I'm not sure you can appreciate how much I want to lay you out before me and make you scream my name.

I knew one hundred little things about Noah Shaw but when he kissed me I couldn't remember my own name.

I must be made of nothing to feel so much nothing.

But when everyone tells you you're crazy and no one believes you when you swear you aren't, a small part of you will always wonder if they're right.

I want YOU to be the one wanting me first. Pushing me first. Kissing me first. Don't be careful with me," he said. "Because I won't be careful with you.

I knew Noah worshipped Charlie Parker and that his toothbrush was green. That he wouldn't bother to button his shirts correctly but always made his bed. That when he slept he curled into himself and that his eyes were the color of the clouds before it rained, and I knew he had no problem eating meat but would stubly leave the room if animals started to kill one another on the Discovery Channel. I knew one hundered little things about Noah Shaw but when he kissed me I couldn't remember my own name.

Now you're just being cruel.' 'I like pushing your buttons.' 'You'd enjoy it more if you undid them first.

What are my options?" "You could read obscure poetry while I play the triangle, I suppose. Or we can smother ourselves in peanut butter and howl at the moon. Use your imagination." "Fine,"I said. "You take my hand and back up toward the bed." "Excellent choice. What then?" "You sit down, and pull me down with you." "Where are you?" he asked. "You pull me onto your lap." "Where are your legs?" "Around your waist." "Well," Noah said, his voice slightly rough. "This is getting interesting. So I'm on the edge of your bed. I'm holding you on my lap as you straddle me. My arms are around you, bracing you there so you don't fall. What am I wearing?"... "What do you usually wear to bed?" I asked. Noah said nothing. I opened my eyes to an arched brow and a devious grin. Oh my God. "Close. Your. Eyes," he said. I did. "Now, where were we?" "I was straddling you," I said. "Right. And I'm wearing..." "Drawstring pants." "Those are quite thin, you know." I'm aware. ... "Right," he said. "So what are you wearing?" "I don't know. A space suit. Who cares?" "I think this should be as vivid as possible," he said. "For you," he clarified, and I chuckled. "Eyes closed," he reminded me. "I'm going to have to institute a punishment for each time I have to tell you." "What did you have in mind?" "Don't tempt me. Now, what are you wearing?" "A hoodie and drawstring pants too, I guess." "Anything underneath?" "I don't typically walk around without underwear." "Typically?" "Only on special occasions." "Christ. I meant under your hoodie." "A tank top, I guess." "What color?" "White tank. Black hoodie. Gray pants. I'm ready to move on now." I felt him nearer, his words close to my ear. "To the part where I lean back and pull you down with me?" Yes. "Over me," he said. Fuck. "The part where I tell you that I want to feel the softness of the curls at the nape of your neck? To know what your hipbone would feel like against my mouth?" he murmured against my skin. "To memorize the slope of your navel and the arch of your neck and the swell of your-

How long do you want me?" he asked. How long can I have you? I thought.

It doesn’t matter what we are. It matters what we do.

Noah acted like he felt nothing because he felt everything. He seemed not to care because he cared too much.

I can't bear to look at my bed without seeing you in it.

If I truly loved him, she said, I would let him go. I wish I loved him enough.

You like them," I realized. Noah's eyebrows lifted in question. "Like as people." "As opposed to...furniture?" "They're my PARENTS." "That is my understanding, yes.

What do I sound like?" I asked, more breathily than I intended. God, so predictable. He considered his answer for a moment before he gave it. "Dissonant," he said finally. "Meaning?" Another long pause. "Unstable." Hmm. He shook his head. "Not the way you're thinking," he said, the shadow of a smile on his lips. "In music, consonant chords are points of arrival. Rest. There's no tension," he tried to explain. "Most pop music hooks are consonant, which is why most people like them. They're catchy but interchangeable. Boring. Dissonant intervals, however, are full of tension," he said, holding my gaze. "You can't predict which way they're going to go. It makes limited people uncomfortable - frustrated, because they don't understand the point, and people hate what they don't understand. But the ones who get it," he said, lifting a hand to my face, "find it fascinating. Beautiful." He traced the shape of my mouth with his thumb. "Like you.

They lie, you know. It's not easier to ask for forgiveness. Not even a little.

Two seconds later, the sound of an alarm filled my ears. ''What did you do?'' I said over the noise as he backed up towards the bathroom door. ''The girl who gave you the note?'' ''Yes...'' ''I caught her staring at my lighter.'' I blinked. ''You gave a child, in a psych ward , a lighter?'' His eyes crinkled at the corners. ''She seemed trustworthy.'' ''You're sick,'' I said, but smiled. ''Hey, nobody's perfect. '' Noah smiled back.