“Well, good luck with that,” Zach replies to Art’s earlier cutesy statement that melted my heart. “Blue’s pretty hard to catch.” Not if I don’t run. I wish I hadn’t run that night – the night I went up to his room to confront him about the date. I wish I’d stayed and… kissed him. I wish I’d touched him some more. I stare at his eyes, his dark hair, the cut of his face, his lips. The way he’s kneeling down on the floor, being all tender with Art, and yet he looks so powerful, the tallest guy I’ve ever met.
