Dash & Lily's Book of Dares (Dash & Lily, #1)

by Rachel Cohn

I preferred to hang out with the dead, dying,

or desperate books—used we call them, in a way that we’d never call a person, unless we meant it cruelly. (“Look at Clarissa … she’s such a used girl.”)

I was horribly bookish, to the point of coming right out and saying it, which I knew was not socially acceptable. I particularly loved the adjective bookish, which I found other people u...

I love Christmas. I love everything about it: the lights, the cheer, the big family gatherings, the cookies, the presents piled high around the tree, the goodwill to all.

“Well, what’s in your Amazonian hope chest?” Boomer asked. “My WHAT?” “You know, on Amazon. Your hope chest.”

“You mean my wish list?” “Yeah, that.”

“It’s Christmas, Dashiell. Can’t you give that attitude a rest?” “Merry Christmas, Dad. And thanks for the presents.” “What presents?” “I’m sorry—those were all from Mom, weren’t they?”

“Hi,” I said, “I was wondering if Mark was around?” “Mark?” a bored male voice asked. “Yeah. Works at the information desk.” “There are about twenty of us named Mark. Can you be more specific?” “Dark hair. Glasses. Ironic detachment. Scruff.” “That doesn’t narrow it down.”

“He’s a little heavier than the rest of you?” “Oh, I think I know the Mark you mean. He’s not here today. Let me see—yeah, he’s on tomorrow.” “Could you tell me his last name?” “I’m sorry,” the guy said, pleasantly enough, “but we don’t disclose personal information to stalkers. If you want to leave a message, I can get it to him tomorrow.”

“Your name is Dash?” I said. I burped. My mouth had one more nugget of wisdom to offer. “If we got married, I’d be, like, Mrs. Dash!”

I love snow for the same

reason I love Christmas: It brings people together while time stands still.

But isn’t this a dance? Isn’t all of this a dance? Isn’t that what we do with words? Isn’t that what we do when we talk, when we spar, when we make plans or leave it to chance? Some of it’s choreographed. Some of the steps have been done for ages. And the rest—the rest is spontaneous. The rest has to be

decided on the floor, in the moment, before the music ends.

‘A dream deferred is a dream denied.’ ”

The important people in our lives leave imprints. They may stay or go in

the physical realm, but they are always there in your heart, because they helped form your heart. There’s no getting over that.”

“I mean, what if love isn’t a yes-or-no question? It’s not either you’re in love or you’re not. I mean, aren’t there different levels? And maybe these things, like words and expectations and whatever, don’t go on top of the love. Maybe it’s like a map, and they all have their own place, and then when you see it from the sky—whoa.”

when people say right person, wrong time, or wrong person, right time, it’s usually a cop-out. They think that fate is playing with them. That we’re all just participants in this romantic reality show that God gets a kick out of watching. But the universe doesn’t decide what’s right or not right. You do.

“ ‘Running latte,’ ” I said aloud. “ ‘When you’re late because you stopped for a coffee.’ ” Dash resumed writing in the red notebook. Sorry I missed your bar mitzvah, I was running latte.