Carry On: The Rise and Fall of Simon Snow

by Rainbow Rowell

He looks uncharacteristically thoughtful. I wonder if he’s forgotten that he’s holding my hands. Or if he’s forgotten what it means to hold hands. Or if he’s forgotten who I am entirely. I think again about pulling my hands away—but Snow could light fires in my palms at this point, and I wouldn’t pull away. It feels like he has. “Baz,” he says, and it’s not unprecedented for him to say my name, but I know he avoids it. “This is stupid. If we’re going to be working together, you can’t keep pretending that I don’t know.” “Don’t know what,” I say, yanking my hands back. “Don’t know about you. What you are.” “Get off my bed, Snow.” “It won’t change anything—” “Won’t it?” “Well, it would make things easier,” he says. “How can we discuss what we know about vampires when you won’t even admit that you are one?” “Get off my bed.”