I Learned That I Was Either Crazy

Are You Crazy?" I Said. "crazy About You." "patch!" "don't Worry, We've Got Time." "how Do You Know?" He Staggered Back A Step, With His Hand Over His Heart. "your Lack Of Faith Hurts.

I'll Be Firm," I Promised Patch, Adopting A No-nonsense Expression. "no Backing Down." By Now Patch Was Full-on Grinning. He Kissed Me Again, And I Felt My Mouth Soften Its Resolve. "you Look Cute When You're Trying To Be Tough," He Said.

You Belong To The Biblical Race Of Nephilim. Your Real Father Was An Angel Who Fell From Heaven. You're Half Mortal." The Boy's Dark Eyes Lifted, Meeting Chauncey's. "half Fallen Angel." Chauncey's Tutor's Voice Drifted Up From The Recesses Of His Mind, Reading Passages From The Bible, Telling Of A Deviant Race Created When Angels Cast From Heaven Mated With Mortal Women. A Fearsome And Powerful Race. A Chill That Wasn't Entirely Revulsion Crept Through Chauncey. "who Are You?

It Will Cost Me A Lot To Send You With Scott Wearing That Dress But, Just So You Know: If You Come With That Dress Slightly Wrinkled,i Will Trace Scott, And When I Find Him, It's Not Gonna Be Pretty

I Personally Believe Patch Scared The Pants Off Normal, And It Took Off Running For The Far Side Of The World.