Jennifer E. Smith

There are different kinds of happy, some kinds don't need any proof-Ellie O'Neill, This is What Happy Looks Like

He'd thought this was the start of something. But clearly she'd changed her mind, and he felt stunned by home quickly the whole thing had unraveled, the end coming before the beginning really even had a chance to begin.

Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it, or never to have had it?

Someone once told her there's a formula for how long it takes to get over someone, that it's half as long as the time you've been together. Hadley has her doubts about how accurate this could possibly be, a calculation so simple for something as complicated as heartbreak.

Clare's been called a lot of things- smart and funny, driven and talented- but memorable certainly isn't one of them. The most important things about her- the ones she's most proud of- are apparent only once you get to know her.

Childhood memories were like airplane luggage; no matter how far you were traveling or how long you needed them to last, you were only ever allowed two bags

She filed those moments away like precious documents, wore them smooth with memory, collected them like bits of prayers.

And being here like this, so suddenly close to him is enough to make her lightheaded. It's a feeling like falling.

But the crowds are surging around them and her backpack is heavy on her shoulders and the boy's eyes are searching hers with something like loneliness , like the very last thing he wants is to be left behind right now. And that's something Hadley can understand, too, and so after a moment she nods in agreement, and he tips the suitcase forward onto it's wheels, and they begin to walk.