yes I hate him I would die for him Ive already died for him I die for him over and over again everytime this goes when I lifted my hand I could still feel crisscrossed twigs and grass burning into the palm poor Quentin she leaned back on her arms her hands locked about her knees youve never done that have you what done what that what I have what I did yes yes lots of times with lots of girls then I was crying her hand touched me again and I was crying against her damp blouse then she lying on her back looking past my head into the sky I could see a rim of white under her irises I opened my
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