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“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the car?” she asked, sitting cross-legged on the mossy forest floor to snip stalks of heather. “You’re not cold? Or bored?” “No.” “See, I actually believe you,” she said merrily. “Because you’re kind, not nice. You’d never say you weren’t bored to be polite.” “You’re the only person I know who says the word nice like it’s a bad thing.” “It’s not a bad thing at all, except when it’s all there is. A lot of nice people stop being nice when they don’t get exactly what they want.”
A shadow crossed Jamie’s face, damping some of that light in his eyes again, but he only said, “Holy Grail?” Mika shrugged, sheepish. “Well, it is. To be loved and accepted exactly as we are? Isn’t that the thing we’re all searching for?” “Maybe,” Jamie said, almost to himself, “but we don’t always know it when we’ve found it.”
I’d have spent the whole drive up here wading neck-deep into the most glass-half-empty thoughts known to humankind,”
I don’t think she’s completely sure how I feel about you.” “Out of interest, how do you feel about me?” He rolled his eyes. “You know exactly how I feel about you.” “You have to say it!” Mika said indignantly. “You read books! You know Swoony Words must be said! Words like You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Or like My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and—”
She, who had once believed she would never leave a mark on anybody, knew now that the marks she had left were unerasable, as much a part of forever as the sea. And, really, who could ask for more than that?
