I need a Kleenex.” She sniffs.Guy disengages his hands from hers, takes the hem of hissweatshirt, and wipes her nose with it.“That’s romantic,” she says, embarrassed.“Well, it is sort of, because I wouldn’t do it for anybody elsein the world.

It's hard to keep something a secret when it's written all over you body.

...her hand closes on smooth metal. Her fingers test the sharpness of the edge. Perfect. It's a fresh blade. The girls' voices rustle in her head. Their clamoring pushes out all rational thought. She rolls up her sleeve. The bite of the blade kills the noise. It wipes out the memory of those staring faces. Willow looks at her arm, at the life springing from her. Tiny pinpricks of red that blossom into giant peonies.

Her brother is crying, he is wretched and broken. Though his sobs are barely audible, he is weeping with absolute and total abandon. Such a naked display of emotion is both alarming and frightening.