I Know How Devastated You

I Know How You Guys Feel About Us. I'm Not Stupid, And Believe Me, I've Tried To Get You Out Of My Head. But There Isn't Enough Liquor Or Art Or Any Other Distraction In The World To Do It. I Had To Stop Going To Wolfe's Because It Was Too Hard Being That Close To You, Even If It Was All Just Pretend Fighting. I Couldn't Stand The Touching. It Was Agonizing Because It Meant Something To Me－and I Knew It Meant Nothing To You. I Kept Telling Myself To Stay Away Altogether, And Then I'd Find Excuses… Like The Car… Anything To Be Around You Again.

If Your Eyes Weren't Open, You Wouldn't Know The Difference Between Dreaming And Waking.

They’re Waiting For You. Go On In.” Adrian Leaned Close To Keith’s Ear And Spoke In An Ominous Voice. “if.you.dare.” He Poked Keith’s Shoulder And Gave A "muhahaha” Kind Of Monster Laugh.

And Sometimes, If I Was Really, Really Lucky, He’d Smile At Me. A Real Smile, Too—not The Dry One That Accompanied The Sarcasm We Tossed Around So Often. I Didn’t Want To Admit It To Anyone—not To Lissa, Not Even To Myself—but Some Days, I Lived For Those Smiles.

When I Talked To Him Earlier, He Said He Had To Work Tonight,” Peter Explained, “but That We Should Go Ahead And Draw For Him.” “draw?” I Asked Uneasily. “oh Lord. Tell Me It’s Not Pictionary Night Too.” Peter Sighed Wearily. “draw For Secret Santas. Do You Even Read The E-mails I Send?” “secret Santas? Seems Like We Just Did That,” I Said. “yeah, A Year Ago,” Said Peter. “just Like We Do Very Christmas.