The official recruiting process for their posse began. Because Carlos, Narc, and Trevor each had high SQs, Heeb and Evan reasoned that adding the three to their group would raise the average SQ of each group member (much the way that colleges recruit individuals with higher test scores to increase the average test scores of their matriculated students).

Having had virtually no contact with the outside world for the last few weeks, Evan had temporarily forgotten the social norms governing shopping conduct or approaching celebrities in public.

You focus on a singer star,” I explained, as I searched for my spot. “Then you spin around, staring at that one star, until you can’t stand anymore.” I started spinning to demonstrate. “Then you lie down to watch the stars spinning above you while your star remains still.

Can I speak to Sayvyer, please?”“You’re looking for the savior? At 1:15 a.M.?”“No. Her name’s Sayvyer.”“There’s no savior here. Especially not at 1:15 a.M.

And as their penile pain began to subside, the two men were able to form more complex thoughts, resulting in a collaborative work: the development of a worldview that might be described as “penilosophy.

I had gotten so used to being alone, but never entirely used to it. Never used to it enough to stop wanting the alternative.

You and I,' I intertwined my fingers with his, 'are one.'Until the day I die,' he promised, 'And even after that.'For the eternity?' I whispered on his lips.'Evermore.

Evan stopped completely. He was staring at her with those intense eyes. Staring right into her. Just like he had in those couple of moments when she had thought for a split second, that he wanted to kiss her.

You focus on a single star,” I explained, as I searched for my spot. “Then you spin around, staring at that one star, until you can’t stand anymore.” I started spinning to demonstrate. “Then you lie down to watch the stars spinning above you while your star remains still.

Wait here.” I ran back up to my room to grab his blue-and-black plaid flannel shirt, still in my possession. Back on the porch, I handed it over. “My shirt. I forgot you had it.” “It’s ‘my’ shirt. You need to go home tonight and sleep in it. I made the mistake of washing it and now it doesn’t smell like you anymore.” He turned the shirt over and over in his hand, laughing and shaking his head. “And I want it back first thing in the morning. You read me?