Jane-sweetie, We've Talked About Your Weight-" My

Dreams Die Hard. And Sometimes They Don't Have To Die At All.

I Moved To Leave, And Dylan Actually Grabbed Me By My Shoulders. I Was So Surprised That I Forgot To Karate-chop His Elbows And Break His Arms.

I'm Way Hot," He Muttered. "but I Don't Feel Sick. Just — Way Hot." Fang

Imagine Life Is A Game In Which You Are Juggling Five Balls. The Balls Are Called Work, Family, Health, Friends, And Integrity. And You're Keeping All Of Them In The Air. But One Day You Finally Come To Understand That Work Is A Rubber Ball. If You Drop It, It Will Bounce Back. The Other Four Balls...are Made Of Glass. If You Drop One Of These, It Will Be Irrevocably Scuffed, Nicked, Perhaps Even Shattered.

What Are You Doing In There, Waxing Your Mustache?” Iggy Yelled, Pounding On The Bathroom Door. I Yanked The Door Open And Pushed Him Backward Hard, Making Him Stagger. “i Don’t Have A Mustache, You Idiot!” Iggy Giggled And Put His Arms Up To Protect Himself In Case I Punched Him. “and You Know What?” I Added. “you Don’t Have One Either. Well, Maybe In A Couple Years. You Can Always Hope.” I Left Him In The Hallway, Anxiously Fingering His Upper Lip.