It wasn__ that she necessarily wanted to __ocialize_ at the bonfire, but she wanted to broadcast to the general population that her antisocial behavior was a personal choice not a sentence to social leprosy.

Was it possible to feel nostalgic about something that had never happened to him, possible for nostalgia to be taken in by the body as a free pathogen to infect the consciousness with stray sentiments? Perhaps, in his dreams, he had traveled back in time, or even drifted into another dimension of space-time and inhabited the body, experiences, and nostalgia of another. To even envisage so allowed the trauma of those lost moments, though not his own, to draw from him a certain envy for the entity in whose memories he had basked vicariously. . .Perhaps, nostalgia was a microorganism. . .the bacterium that infected. . . Yes. . .maybe he was sick.

What if just you and I hung out, like last summer?" Nick sat up and began twirling a lock of my wet hair around his finger. "Josh never needs to know.

I guess everybody thinks about old times, even the happiest people.

I jolt up, a scream lodged in my throat. Drops of sweat roll down my forehead and my throat hurts as if I've been screaming for a long time.

How did pretty little Anna go from Westchester suburb brat to New York hooker? Now that__ a story.