"and How Are You Feeling?" Asked Patrick."oh,

I Don't Think You're Dying," I Said. "i Think You've Just Got A Touch Of Cancer. He Smiled. Gallows Humor.

He Loved The Scratching Of Pencil Against Paper When He Was Focused: It Meant Something Was Happening.

She Spoke Quietly Then, The Tiniest Crack In Her Voice, And All At Once Lacey Pemerton Was Not Lacey Pemberton. She Was Just—like, A Person.

Do You Ever Wonder Whether People Would Like You More Or Less If They Could See Inside You?

My Head Was Level With Hers As We Stared At Each Other From Opposite Sides Of The Glass. I Don't Remember How It Ended - If I Went To Bed Or She Did. In My Memory, It Doesn't End. We Just Stay There, Looking At Each Other, Forever.