“At that moment - in that small, concise, perfectly clear moment of time - I knew. It was that moment I fell in love with him. It actually caused me to stop, and time froze for just a second. But that feeling was so right, and so strong, that I knew I wasn't wrong.”
“I decided right then and there to make a snickerdoodle perfume to wear, so that one day he would sniff me like that.”
“Are you going to be all right now? No more tears? I don't know how to handle crying girls. Every time my five-year-old sister turns on the waterworks, I end up buying her a Barbie. You don't need a new Barbie, do you?”
“I felt my cheeks turn red, and she laughed out loud. But I didn't mind too much, because the last thing she saw was my middle finger aimed in her direction as I stepped outside”
“Anyway." I cleared my throat loudly. "Thank you again for the beautiful necklace. It's perfect, and I love it. Where did you find it? I've never seen anything like it before."
It was his turn to look embarrassed and he ducked his head. "That's because I made it." He peeked up at me, and my heart melted. Am I dreaming? This has to be a dream.
"You made it?" Something wet hit my cheek and I brushed it away, impatiently waiting for his answer.
"Yeah," he said shyly. "I did.”
“How do you say hello to someone when you 've just found out that you
“He didn't want me to get hurt? Wow. Just wow. I might actually be close to a swoon here”
“Do you know what the name Astrid means?" He switched gears again and I was helpless to follow.
It means 'star'. That's what I think of you as, Abbey. One day I looked up, and there you were. A fiery spot of light surrounded by darkness. You make me feel like anything is possible.”
“I tried to give him my best you're-so-sexy-and-I'm-impressed look, but I don't think it worked.”
“Obviously this was one of those stupid guy moments and he didn't understand what I wanted. I was going to explain it to him very, very soon.
“So that was what the blush was for? Because he was admitting he didn't wash his hands? I thought it was like some guy requirement to be dirty most of the time.”
“So did Caspian leave this behind when he went off to college or something?'
Don't say it. Please don't say it.
'He died a little more than two years ago in a car accident. Right after Halloween”
“He didn't answer me, but held my gaze intently as he stood and slowly started to reach for the bottom of his sweater. He turned around and lifted it up over his shoulders, and I forgot how to breath. The sweater slid off of him in one long smooth motion and messed up his hair, leaving it tousled and sexy-looking. An interlooking chain of small black circles and triangles was etched onto each shoulder blde, ending halfway down his back... He turned back around to face me, and his green eyes stared right through me... I gulped again and tried very hard not to drool”
“Bye Caspian!' I called out. He stopped, and threw me a big grin over his shoulder. I grinned back like the Cheshire cat. What was it about him that made me feel so ridiculously happy?”
“He had everything a dream boy should have. Back, front, sides, Everything. A head.”
“Her mother, an unshapely, chubby-cheeked creature from the rural gentry of Styria, permanently lost her hair at the age of forty after being treated for influenza by her husband, and prematurely withdrew from society. She and her husband were able to live in the Gentzgasse thanks to her mother's fortune, which derived from the family estates in Styria and then devolved upon her. She provided for everything, since her husband earned nothing as a doctor. He was a socialite, what is known as a beau, who went to all the big Viennese balls during the carnival season and throughout his life was able to conceal his stupidity behind a pleasingly slim exterior. Throughout her life Auersberger's mother-in-law had a raw deal from her husband, but was content to accept her modest social station, not that of a member of the nobility, but one that was thoroughly petit bourgeois. Her son-in-law, as I suddenly recalled, sitting in the wing chair, made a point of hiding her wig from time to time--whenever the mood took him--both in the Gentzgasse and at the Maria Zaal in Styria, so that the poor woman was unable to leave the house. It used to amuse him, after he had hidden her wig, to drive his mother-in-law up the wall, as they say. Even when he was going on forty he used to hide her wigs--by that time she has provided herself with several--which was a symptom of his sickness and infantility. I often witnessed this game of hide-and-seek at Maria Zaal and in the Gentzgasse, and I honestly have to say that I was amused by it and did not feel in the least bit ashamed of myself. His mother-in-law would be forced to stay at home because her son-in-law had hidden her wigs, and this was especially likely to happen on public holidays. In the end he would throw the wig in her face. He needed his mother-in-law's humiliation, I reflected, sitting in the wing chair and observing him in the background of the music room, just as he needed the triumph that this diabolical behavior brought him.”
“Where is everything?’ Kendall and I chorused.”
“Replaying her words in my head, I could feel my face redden again.
I wanted to flush my head down the toilet.”
“The images of myth must be the daemonic guardians, omnipresent and unnoticed, which protect the growth of the young mind, and guide man's interpretation of his life and struggles.”
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