young-adult-fiction

Next to the first Henry and Meg, Henry had written, __romise?_ Well, that genie__ out of the bottle and there__ no stuffing her back in.

His room was dark until he switched on his desk lamp. I sat on the floor next to his bed and watched him counting clothes and considering shoes. He seemed so boyish right then__ike he wished his mom would just come in and pack for him. I couldn__ possibly love him any more than I did at that moment.

I smiled at him. Not even Wyatt would have known how to be this honorable when talking about a girl that had hurt him.

Then let me be your mercy,_ he said. ____l never be able to give you smart answers about why we suffer, but I can come into your world and try to be some kind of help to you.

I pretended to be a Cheyenne guide. I pretended to be a prairie woman. I pretended Henry was my old-timey husband taking me to our new homestead. I leaned down and patted Trouble__ neck. __ood boy,_ I said. __rusty steed.

Hmmm. What you__e saying is that you__e never been kissed?_ He picked at a string on the blanket under us.

I found I could only glance at him for tiny moments and then I had to look away. He was perfect enough to hurt my feelings for a long time, and I wanted to let him.

I finally understood why so much monkey business happened in the backs of buses. Put us in close proximity, with wheels spinning under us, and nothing to do but wait, we__e going to start thinking of lovely uses for our bodies. I don__ care who you are.

Here__ what I learned about life when we were going through that. We__e all human and mortal. We__e all going to suffer and die. But it__ how we are with each other during those times that proves God__ here with us._ He turned his hand over in mine and entwined our fingers. __e comes in through people. People who love us anyway. They jump right into the chaos with us and try to help us make sense of it. That__ what mercy is_it__ choosing to help, or forgive, or love even when it goes against all logic.

He ran his hand from my wrist up to the crook of my elbow and then to my shoulder. __hen I was a little kid, my dad would come to my room at night to say a prayer with me. He used to say, __ord, We know there__ a little girl out there who__ meant for Henry. Please protect her and raise her up right.__ His voice changed to something slower and more country when he mimicked his dad. He smiled at the memory, and then he put his mouth near my ear and whispered. __ou were that little girl.

All of the emotions that hit people at times like these, all of them, were coursing through us both like a secret we couldn__ tell. Because if we said everything we were thinking and feeling right then_if we laid it all out for one another_we might not like the way the words strung together. Or the way fear and hope and bitterness and love mashed up into one big mess in the pits of our stomachs.

Sometimes it takes losing everything to see the truth in nothing, except love, honor, and death.

How many times can a heart be shattered and still be pieced back together? How many times before the damage is irreparable?

If I could, I would kiss him every second of every day. For all the days.

I think we're moving at the pace we were set to move in. That, not everyone lives to the same expectations in life and love. And we can only hope that the love we feel is the love we were meant to share. -Angelic Pierce

My first kiss. One tiny, sweet, cosmic kiss. Like falling from a star, onto a cloud, and into a love song.

Mai whispers, __hy did she have to leave? When she was there, I knew where I had her; she was safe.___ou of all people,_ Nicholas says, __hould know that freedom is more important than being safe.

My wishing star glowed slightly and winked back at me. I could almost hear its voice, tinkling like wind chimes and church bells, reassuring me that everything would return to normal.