Amy: I know a lot of things about you. For starters I know you’re interested. You stayed when your friends left.
And sometimes, if I was really, really lucky, he’d smile at me. A real smile, too—not the dry one that accompanied the sarcasm we tossed around so often. I didn’t want to admit it to anyone—not to Lissa, not even to myself—but some days, I lived for those smiles. They lit up his face. “Gorgeous” no longer adequately described him.