I should’ve been very cross with Anubis. Kissing me without permission—the nerve!

Two farewell gifts,' Sadie muttered, 'from two gorgeous guys. I hate my life.

We're fighting for unhappiness?' Noah asked skeptically. 'It sounds a bit crazy when you put it that way.'Nijinsky laughed, delighted. 'Oh, it is.' Then, serious again, he said, 'We fight for the right to be what we choose,to feel what we choose. Even if what we choose seems crazy to others.'If it's all the same to you, I'll fight for revenge,' Sadie said.Nijinsky's eyes glittered. 'Oh, yes. That's fine with me.

Tex's head snapped in my direction.Fuckin' A, woman, you've never had a s'more? He boomedI shook my head.Christ, everyone's gotta have a s'more before they die. Fuck that shit, I'll build a fire in my backyard tonight and I'll stop by Kumar's on the way home to get the stuff. Everyone can come by-.

In AP Bio, I learned that the cells in our body are replaced every seven years, which means that one day, I'll have a body full of cells that were never sick. But it also means that parts of me that knew and loved Sadie will disappear. I'll still remember loving her, but it'll be a different me who loved her. And maybe this is how we move on. We grow new cells to replace the grieving ones, diluting our pain until it loses potency.The percentage of my skin that touched hers will lessen until one day my lips won't be the same lips that kissed hers, and all I'll have are the memories. Memories of cottages in the woods, arranged in a half-moon. Of the tall metal tray return in the dining hall. Of the study tables in the library. The rock where we kissed. The sunken boat in Latham's lake, Sadie, snapping a photograph, laughing the lunch line, lying next to me at the movie night in her green dress, her voice on the phone, her apple-flavored lips on mine. And it's so unfair. All of it.

The sign was spray-painted in Arabic and English, probably from some attempt by the farmer to sell his wares in the market. The English read: Dates-best price. Cold Bebsi. 'Bebsi?' I asked.'Pepsi,' Walt said. 'I read about it on the Internet. There's no 'p' in Arabic. Everyone here calls the soda Bebsi.'So you have to have Bebsi with your bizza?'Brobably.

I tried to think of something to say. Excuse me? Hello? Marry me? Anything would have done.