For the Record

by Emma Lord

We’ve gathered that he doesn’t like to eat these “specials” of his half as much as he loves to watch customers react to them on the shelf.

“The way that man looks at you, I think he’d know you under a pile of bricks,”

POV: you’re stuck in an elevator with Sam Blaze and you KISS. POV: you and Sam Blaze are trapped in a storm cellar and have to huddle for warmth.

It’s more of the same, then. Sam only ever seemed to be flirting with me when it was part of a bit, teasing me or disappearing so fast after it happened that it felt like he was trying to put me in my place.

“Pounding on the door and yelling. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I’m the one who needs you,”

“One of these days she’ll admit she’s wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says, pointing up at me. “He’s a big Ben.”

“Thunder Hearts’ colors are cooler,” Ben blurts.

“Dad’s stuff is cool, too,” Ben says. “Just really loud and sad.” “You’ll appreciate that when you’re a teenager,”