The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare Quotes

“I thought I’d lost him – lost my chance.

But he didn’t push me away.

Instead, he slipped both his arms around me, slid his hands up my back beneath my coat, and gathered me gingerly against his chest. He rested his forehead against mine under the brim of his hat. Our breath mingled in the thin space between us.

“You had brown eyes,” he said.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“So, can you tell all the jerks at school that I have a boyfriend? And that you and I are just friends? Maybe that’ll get the guys off my back and the girls won’t hate me so much.”

“What? They don’t hate you.”

“Yes they do.”

“Why would they hate you?”

“Um, maybe because you and I are friends now?” I swear, he can be so oblivious sometimes.

“We’ve always been friends.”

“OK, well, they hate me now that you’ve made our friendship public.”

“That’s a ridiculous reason to hate someone.”

“Jensen, if you haven’t figured out by now that most girls are shallow, shallow creatures, then there’s no hope for you. They hate other girls for far less than that. Trust me.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Tell me about it.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“I can see perfectly and clearly.

And my glasses are still on the nightstand.

I bolt upright and look around my room. Everything – every poster, every tool, every spare part, every spool of wire – I can see it all crisp and clear. I saw every strand of Mom’s hair in perfect precision. Her tired eyes. The steam rising from her mug. It should’ve all been a blurred mess of colored blobs. I should’ve had to drag my glasses on before any of my surroundings made sense.

I grab my glasses and slide them on. Everything shifts out of focus. I take them off and my world sharpens. I scowl down at my frames like they’ve betrayed me somehow. Then I fumble for my cell phone and dial Porter’s number.

“Alex?”

“You have to do something,” I say, panicked. “I woke up and now I’m Peter freaking Parker.”

“Peter who?”

“I can see. Like 20/20. I don’t need my glasses anymore.”

“Oh. Well, that must be a residual from Shooter Delaney. She was a sharp shooter, you know.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me how to reverse it.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone. “You want… your bad vision back?”

“Yes.”

“…Why?”

“Because my other option is explaining to my parents how I have perfect vision all of a sudden. I’m pretty sure they won’t buy the whole ‘bitten by a radioactive spider’ thing.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“Hey, Wayfare,” Robbie says, falling in step at my side. He’s the type of guy who’s always getting in the middle of things. If there’s a pot to stir, he’s the first to volunteer. It’s like he carries around his own special spoon. “Lotta crap goin’ around about you and Jensen today.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“Levi didn’t trust my idea, but it was a heck of a lot better than his “just run as fast as you can from a swarm of security guards” plan. I had to seal the deal. Cut Gesh off at the knees. Not at the freaking elbow.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“This is how it is. You and me, we die. It’s what we do.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“When I arrive home, the house is brimming with the scent of Gran’s molasses cookies. One of her specialties. The moment I walk through the door, she tosses me an oven mitt.

“Can you watch these for me, Allie Bean? I ran out of butter. There’s a few minutes left on the timer, so when it goes off, check if they’re done. If not, set it for another five minutes. Don’t you let my sugar babies burn.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“Oh. My. God. Was I flirting with Judd Carter?”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“Thank God, my host body finally came through and took over. I didn’t know how long I could get by with Porter’s don’t talk to the locals advice, especially since I was part of the gang.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“I turn a corner, leaving the nonfiction section, and almost bump right into Jensen.

“Hey, Wayfare,” he says, looking at my stack of thick, hardback books. “Doing a little light reading?”

“Heh. Yeah.” I veer past him and head for a table in the back, hoping he doesn’t follow.

He does.

Great.

The books topple from my arms and onto the table. A couple tumble to the floor. Jensen retrieves them for me and looks at the titles.

“Famous Train Robberies of the 1800s,” he says. “Rare and Priceless United States Coins.” He quirks a brow at me. “Going treasure hunting?”

I actually let myself smile. “Yep. I’m traveling back in time to thwart a heist. Want to come along?”

“Sure. Is your time machine a two-seater?”

“No, but it’s got a trunk.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“His eyes widen. “Wow. You really are a fix-it whiz.”

“Fix-it Freak, you mean?” I toss the books in the back seat and buckle my lap belt.

“Fix-it Freaking Awesome, maybe.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“Helena let me borrow a silk scarf to go with the green trench and white gloves. When she secured a navy blue cloche hat over my hair, I almost didn’t recognize myself. I felt very much the part, standing next to Blue in his white collar shirt, green sweater vest and tie, caramel-colored suit, and brown flat cap tilted to the side. Helena whistled and said he was the eel’s hips, whatever that meant. When I told him he looked smokin’ hot, he just shook his head and said, “Nah, I’m not hot at all. This suit breathes really well.”

I won’t lie. In that moment, my heart melted a little for Nicholas Piasecki.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“I’ll go first,” Blue said, swinging his leg over the edge and stepping down. “There are a few rungs, then you have to drop the rest of the way. Not too far, though.”

He got to the last rung and dropped down. I heard his feet hit the ground, followed by a stumble and a thud, and then he swore. Only he didn’t say any of the words I was acquainted with. I distinctly heard him say, “Applesauce.”

“Applesauce?” I threw my head back and laughed. I’d never heard anything so adorable in all my life.

“Stop laughing at me and get yourself down here,” he called back.

But I couldn’t stop. I laughed all the way down the ladder and kept laughing as I dropped to the floor. It was farther than I thought it would be, and I lost my balance like Blue and fell right on my butt. I laughed even more until tears stung my eyes and my ribs hurt.

“Oh, come on,” he said, hauling me to my feet. “It’s not like you’ve never heard that one before.” I could hear the red coloring his cheeks. He was embarrassed, which made it even more adorable, but he wasn’t the type to stay embarrassed for long”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“When are you going to get your license?” Claire asks, half-jogging to keep up with me. “You need a car. Madeline’s sister has a car. She picks her up every day.”

Madeline’s sister is none other than my bestest friend in the world, Tabitha. “Well, Madeline’s sister doesn’t have to pay for her car. So that makes it easy.”

“It’s a convertible.”

“How nice.”

“It’s black.”

“Ah, the same as her heart.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“Yeesh. You’re like an insurance agent and a parent wrapped up in one.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“Turning fiction into mechanical puzzle pieces – like something you could manufacture in an assembly line – was the only way I could pass his literature assignments. Plug protagonist into slot A. Attach conflict and dramatic irony, using two minor characters and one antagonist. Rotate ninety degrees and locate symbolism. Slide climax into place, and fasten with resolution. Use the provided bonding compound if structure seems unstable.

No problem.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“Ma patched you up the best she could and got you dressed and in bed. I told her not to bother curling your hair, but she did it anyway. Made it easier for her to look at that knot at the back of your head.” He reached up and flipped one of my striped cotton curlers with his fingers. “Looks cute, though. Very John Philip Sousa.”

At first I thought he meant I looked like the heavily bearded composer on the cover of one of Pops’ old records, the guy who wrote all those patriotic marches the marching bands play during parades, but I shot him a playful glare when I got the reference. The red, white, and blue rag curlers. “Oh yes, I know, very Stars and Stripes Forever.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“So?” I say, kneeling down on the floor and sticking Charade in the DVD player.

“So you don’t have any friends. You don’t know what it’s like.”

Mom unfolds one of Gran’s afghans and drapes it over the back of the couch. “That’s not true. Alex has friends.”

Claire fists her hands on her hips. “Name one.”

Mom’s face goes a little blank as she thinks about it. Then she says, “Paisley,” and smiles at me. “She sits next to you in Sunday School.”

I turn my head to the side so she can’t see me grimace. Paisley isn’t exactly my friend. She does sit next to me in Sunday School, but we never speak. She’s weird, even for my standards. For one, she always wears flannel pajamas and hiking boots. To church and to school. And two? She always has a handful of mayonnaise packets in her backpack.

Which she snacks on.

During class.

I shudder just thinking about the sound she makes sucking on those packets.

“And what about Jensen?” Mom says. “He’s been your friend since you two were in the church nursery together.”

I roll my eyes. “Mom, just because Paisley and Jensen are in my general vicinity at church and school doesn’t mean they’re my friends.”

“See?” Claire says.“Jensen isn’t her friend. She just has that huge crush on him still.”

I don’t even attempt to dispute it like I normally would. Claire’s like a pit bull when it comes to arguing. Once she sinks her teeth in, she doesn’t let go. And I don’t have the energy to spar with her tonight. Besides, it’s not like my crush on Jensen was ever a secret in this family. Even Pops knows about it. He used to pinch me right above my knee where it tickles, and if I laughed, it meant I was “boy crazy.” Boy crazy for Jensen Peters.

I laughed every time, dammit.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“I don’t read history for the same reason I don’t touch cats. Or ride Ferris wheels. Or go anywhere near boats or water.”

“And why’s that?”

I drop my foot to the floor and clasp my hands between my knees. “Because I don’t want to have déjà vu.”

“And you have déjà vu when you touch a cat?”

“No.” I toss my head back with a groan and stare at the white paneled ceiling. There’s a yellowed water stain in the corner. “I mean yes. I did have. Once. When I was four.”

“Tell me about it.”

I close my eyes and tell myself I have nothing to lose. What was the worst Dr Farrow could do to me? Send me to a mental institution? I was pretty sure I’d have déjà vu there too. It wasn’t something you could hide from.”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The 57 Lives of Alex Wayfare

“to make you mad.” “Of course you didn’t,” he said with a scowl. “All you meant to do was descend into my girlfriend’s body, demand I risk my neck to take you into a high security area–”
― M.G. Buehrlen, The Fifty-Seven Lives of Alex Wayfare