“Boys that age are hard to like. You understand. Teenage boys are uncouth and selfish. And all they can think about is getting their hand up a girl’s skirt. I was so disappointed. I wanted what the two of us used to have.” “Yeah, but when I was sixteen I wasn’t any different—uncouth, selfish, and trying to get my hand up a girl’s skirt. That was me in a nutshell.” “I guess it was better I didn’t meet you then,” she said, and smiled. “Saying goodbye at twelve, meeting again at thirty-seven … maybe this is the best way for us, after all.”
