young-adult

Suddenly, a high-pitched sound blasted into the room. The floor began shaking beneath her feet. She paused for a moment, wondering if she was causing this.

I was not a believer in instalove. So said the rational part of my brain.

An elegant sari was draped across her figure; magnificent, painstakingly embroidered, and in a shade of deep red, it was even more lavish than the gowns she had worn every day since arriving at the castle. Her lips and eyes were painted, and though she looked beautiful she had never been more miserable.

I nodded. I was ready. In fact I was so ready that if he didn__ do something soon, if he didn__ touch me in the next five seconds, it was very possible I might die. Right there on the bed. Still a virgin.

Often I've wondered what it would feel like to be him," he whispered softly. "To feel the warmth of your skin under my cold hand or your hot breath on my lips. These last few days have been torment on my curiosity.

The screech of tyres, an almighty bang and a car exploded through the playground wall like a high-velocity bullet through a watermelon.

One honorable young man can make all the difference...

I can also speak to small woodland creatures,_ he grins at me.

And just as I thought that my happy ending was beginning, it had to end so soon even though it hadn't started yet.

Her chest began to quake softly. "Why?" "Why what, sweetheart?" I said gently. "Why do you want me?" I didn't even have to think. "Because anyone who's been through what you have and can still come out in one piece on the other side is a beautiful creature that I want to know.

If my life were a movie ... the title sequence would start out like a typical high school story, but then reveal that something's amiss. There'd be a tight shot, or piece of dialogue, or something that would make the viewer uncomfortable. Something to give them that prickly feeling.-Dez

I__ not fragile,_ I teased and kissed him harder. I supposed my bruise would say otherwise, but I didn__ want to be treated like I was going to shatter if someone touched me.

You're going to wake up one day, and you're gonna realize he's moved on. He'll quit trying to win you back. And you'll regret it. And if there's anything The Plague taught me, it's that there isn't time for regret anymore.

Our group pressed west on what was left of Highway 93, toward the pass leading to Las Vegas. Sand covered the road in loose drifts so deep the horses' hooves sank into them. The metal highway signs were bent low by the strong wind, and above us, billboards that once screamed ads for the casinos were now stripped of their promises of penny slots and large jackpots. The raw boards underneath were exposed, like showgirls without their makeup. Some signs had been blown over completely and lay half-buried under mounds of sand, like sleeping animals. Cars dotted the highway, their paint scoured off and dead tumbleweeds caught underneath them. Their windows were fogged with death, and despite my effort not to look, my eyes were drawn to the blurred images of the still forms inside. I tried to concentrate on the dark road ahead of us instead.

Never miss a minute to Sexercise your mind!

Who are you?_ I whispered, leaning forward and reaching across the table to touch his sternly gorgeous face, almost afraid he__ disappear beneath my fingertips. __he face of an angel, the soul of a poet, and the fists of a fighter. I don__ know how to understand you, Mickey.__ickey caught my hand with his and then turned his head and pressed a soft kiss in my palm. ____ not the only poet at this table.

I couldn__ escape the hell I was in; the push pull between hot & cold. Neither was better, just two extremes of the same pain.

I don__ have enough gross words in my gross vocabulary to describe how gross that gross thought is. Gross.