I wondered what that was like, to hold someone’s hand. I bet you could sometimes find all of the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand.

What is it with you and that book?"
Rafael laughed. "We have a personal relationship.

This is my problem. I want other people to tell me how they feel. But I'm not so sure I want to return the favor.

I had learned to hide what I felt. No, that's not true. There was no learning involved. I had been born knowing how to hide what I felt.

Senior year. And then life. Maybe that's the way it worked. High school was just a prologue to the real novel. Everybody got to write you -- but when you graduated, you got to write yourself. At graduation you got to collect your teacher's pens and your parents' pens and you got your own pen. And you could do all the writing. Yeah. Wouldn't that be sweet?

Sometimes, all you have to do is tell people the truth. They won't believe you. After that, they'll leave you alone.