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She believed in herself maybe more than other people believed in God or the devil or Heaven or Hell.

John Corey Whaley

She believed in herself maybe more than other people believed in God or the devil or Heaven or Hell.

John Corey Whaley
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And, long after Clark had gone home, Solomon stayed up wondering if everyone falls in love with someone who can't love them back.
John Corey Whaley
I'm sorry, Cullen. I really am. I know this sucks. But you're better off anyway. And you'll be fine. You needed me. Now someone else needs me.
John Corey Whaley
— Do they know? That you're gay?— Why waste their time with it? It's not like it'll ever be an issue anyway.— Yeah, but, it's who you are, right?— I guess so, — he said. — I don't really know how to be any way else.— When did you know?— I was twelve, maybe. Something I just knew one day, even though I hadn't known it the day before.— So it's like that, huh? A feeling? Not just being into other dudes?— Oh no, it's that too. Of course it's that. But it's more, I think. Not so much a feeling as a fact, like having blue eyes or brown hair. It's just maybe something you don't discover until you're ready to understand it better.— Like being straight, — she said. Only we don't have to deal with all that closet bullshit.— Bingo, — he said.
John Corey Whaley
As smart as I am, it took a boy stuck in his house to teach me that sometimes it doesn't matter where you are at all. It only matters whos with you.
John Corey Whaley
The thing to know about my brother was that even though he was fifteen, he looked to be about the same age as me. Only, I'm not sure if that was because he looked older or I looked younger. I like to think it was a healthy mixture of both.
John Corey Whaley
He was an astronaut without a suit, but he was still breathing.
John Corey Whaley
But at home, that same day he'd jumped into the fountain, he'd gotten so anxious, pacing around the living room listening to his parents try to calm him, that he suddenly just lost it completely and slapped his face. He immediately started crying, confused and guilty, looking up at his parents like he had no idea how it happened. And, really, that's the way it always was with the hitting. It would happen so fast, his body shaking to release the tension that built up from all the thoughts swirling through his mind and all the air he was having trouble breathing and all the loud beating of his own heart ringing in his ears. It had to get out and that was the path it chose. Slap. Instant relief.
John Corey Whaley
Solomon had good days and he had bad days, but the good had far outnumbered the bad since Lisa and Clark had started coming around. Sometimes, though, they'd show up and he's look completely exhausted, drained of all his charm and moving in slow motion. They could do that to him—the attacks. Something about the physical response to panic can drain all the energy out of a person, and it doesn't matter what causes it or how long it lasts. What Solomon had was unforgiving and sneaky and as smart as any other illness. It was like a virus or cancer that would hide just long enough to fool him into thinking it was gone. And because it showed up when it damn well pleased, he'd learned to be honest about it, knowing that embarrassment only made it worse.
John Corey Whaley
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