Ramona Wray Quotes

Elementary, my dear Watson."
"That's a misquotation, by the way," I countered without thinking. Which might've made more of an impact if I'd stopped grinning like a cretin.
"See? Ten minutes and you already know I read Sherlock Holmes. Just imagine what you could discover if we went out on a real date.

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I know you once offered to fix dinner for me, but I seriously thought you were bragging."
Those lips, mmm, those sinful lips, pouted briefly, with the sole purpose of driving me crazy, no doubt. He shrugged.
"Nope, no bragging. You hungry?"
"Starving." Though not exactly for food.

Just say yes, Lily. Why try avoiding the unavoidable?"
Ah, why indeed!

Ain't curiosity the worst thing ever?

Things stay with you, they say, and the past grows into a living organism that you can never really shake off. Everything you've ever done, the good and the bad, is supposed to always be on your trail, breathing down your neck. Time acts on it, people say, or so they hope, and eventually some of it even gets forgotten, buried deep within.

Before I knew it, my daily schedule had started to look a lot like this:

Monday: Woke up, thought of Ryder; went to school, stared at Ryder; had lunch with J, gaped at Ryder; went to PE, brooded over Ryder's absence; went home, thought of Ryder; took a drive "accidentally" passing by Dave's Garage, spied on Ryder; came home, thought of Ryder; had dinner, no appetite due to lack-of Ryder; went to bed, tossed and turned thinking about Ryder.
Tuesday: See above, with minor adjustments.
Wednesday: Ryder wasn't in school, my world collapsed
Thursday: Same as Monday and Tuesday
Friday: See above.
Saturday: Nightmarishly long, boring. Drove by Dave's Garage twice, hoping to see Ryder.
Sunday: See above, minus the drive-by. But, yay, tomorrow I'll see Ryder in school! God bless Mondays.

Funny how I always thought the world would dilate and then snap back with a loud bang the day a boy happened to me. But there was no explosion, no fireworks, no sudden shift in the tectonic plates of the earth. It was more of a Zen moment - Quiet. Everything was instantly quiet. The world, my mind, the flux of time - all still. And in the middle of it was him.

You've been following me around."
"No", he denied, without flinching.
"Gosh", I scoffed, "I had no idea the woods were rigged with TV cameras. My bad."
One of the corners of his mouth twitched.

He lowered his mouth to mine anyway, close enough that our lips almost brushed for a millisecond before his glided across my cheek, his breath laying a fiery trail from the corner of my mouth to my ear.
"I'm not going to kiss you, Lily," he whispered. "I'm patient. I'll wait until you want it bad enough."
[...]
"You'll be asking for it soon," he added. "No hesitation.

Okay, so maybe it was unexpected freedom of being able to get up-close and personal with him without having every inch of me quivering in pain that was doing the talking, but still. I couldn't remember ever experiencing freedom like this before: the warm sun, the caressing wind, his body warm and solid beneath my arms, a perfect blue sky above us. Clichéd? Maybe, but guess what? Also about as close to perfection as anyone can hope to get. Happiness can be so absurdly simple sometimes.

This is the stuff dreams are made of, right?"
I could've pointed out the misquotation; everybody goes for Humphrey Bogarst's famous like from The Maltese Falcon, when the words actually are "We are such stuff as dreams are made on" and they belong to Master Shakespeare, but you know what? With all due to respect to the women's movement, the fact is that, on rare occasions, silence really is a girl's best garment.
So I just smiled instead.

Close your eyes," he said, low and soft. "Look inside yourself and don't think for a second, just ... tell me, how did you feel when I kissed you?"
[...]
"Unbroken.

We always hurt what we love most

What game is this, Ryder?" I asked frostily. "What are we playing at here?"
Shrugging, he replied "It's not me who's playing. I'm not the one who's wasted the last two weeks trying to make up her mind. Not the one who's asking about other people or has second thoughts about something as innocent as a kiss.

But nothing comes free of charge; the world would tumble into chaos without that kind of balance...

Live like [me] for seventeen years and you either start seeing boys as chocolate-covered French éclairs on legs, the kind packing a thousand calories apiece, strictly hands-off, or you stop seeing them at all.

How could you be watching me the whole year?" I asked, sensing my eyes bulging, but unable to control it. "I think I would've noticed."
His smile widened. "What, you mean, since you where always checking me out?