Blue Lily, Lily Blue (The Raven Cycle, #3)

by Maggie Stiefvater

“No,” he lied, “I was awake.” “I called you by accident anyway. I meant to call Congress, but your number is one off.” “Oh?” “Yeah, because yours has 6-6-5 in it.” She paused. “Get it?” “Oh, you.” “6-6-5. One number different. Get it?” “Yeah, I got it.” He was quiet for a minute then, though she heard him breathing. “I didn’t know you could call hell, actually.” “You can call in,” Blue said. “The thing is that you can’t call out.” “I imagine you could send letters, though.” “Never with enough postage.”

“I’ve learned a lot. I’m glad you misdialed.” “Well. Easy mistake to make,” she said. “Might do it again.”

Ronan was always saying that he never lied, but he wore a liar’s face.

Blue was perfectly aware that it was possible to have a friendship that wasn’t all-encompassing, that wasn’t blinding, deafening, maddening, quickening. It was just that now that she’d had this kind, she didn’t want the other.

There was no point telling himself not to fight with Ronan. They would fight again, because Ronan was still breathing.

For once, the part of his brain that calculated how much a long, hot shower might cost was silent.

“We’re not going to die down here,” Piper said. “I have book club on Tuesday.” “Book club! You’ve only been here two weeks and you’re in a book club.”

He wondered if he was going to go through each year of his life thinking about how stupid he’d been the year before.

And there would now forever be two Blues: the Blue that was before, and the Blue that was after. The one who didn’t believe, and the one who did.

And Ronan Lynch looked like Niall Lynch, which was to say, he looked like an asshole.