And the more I think about it, the more frustrated I get by the entire concept of a backup plan. Because it only ever seems to pertain to people who are interested in art, music, theater--and yes, the circus. Nobody would ever dream of going up to someone in medical school and telling them, 'Gee, I really think you should have a backup plan. You know, just in case this doesn't work out for you.

When I look over my shoulder, I see Jamie watching me with the same adoring smile time he has from the first time I met him. Jamie is not a starfish. Not even close.

I'd rather have an ugly face than an ugly heart.

I feel like I have the world, and even though Prizm isn't in it, Hiroshi is. His family is. His art is. He's filling a void I never knew was there, with his stories and his family and his paintings and the kindness he never seems to run out of.

I need to be strong enough to move away on my own, to pull Mom's hooks out of my heart, to forget about Uncle Max. I need to be strong enough to carry all the guilt of what happened to my family because of me.