Quotes by Katie McGarry

I love you enough to never make you choose.

We’d read about sirens in English this fall; Greek mythology bullshit about women so beautiful, their voices so enchanting, that men did anything for them. Turned out that mythology crap was real because every time I saw her, I lost my mind.

That must be love: when everything else in the world could implode and you wouldnt care as long as you had that one person standing beside you.

I hold the bottle out into the rain and watch as the steady flow slowly fills it. When there is enough, enough that Beth can clearly see, I close the bottle and hand it to her.She raises a skeptical eyebrow, but accepts the bottle.Its our rain Beth.Her head barely shakes to show her confusion while I rub the back of my neck and search for my courage. I told you I loved you in this rain and when you doubt my words, I want you to look at this bottle.

Ive got you. I swear to God, Ive got you, said Noah. Stay with me, Echo.I wanted to. I wanted to stay with him, but the shouting and screams and glass breaking in my mind grew louder. Make it stop.He tightened his grip on my arms. Fight, Echo! Youve got to fucking fight. Come on, baby. Youre safe.

Please, Noah, I dont want to do this wrong. Tell me how to make you feel good.He shifted so that his body rested beside mine, his leg and arm still draped over me. I felt small under his warmth and strength. His chocolate-brown eyes softened. Being with you feels good. Touching you- he tucked a curl behind my ear. -feels good. I have never wanted anyone like I want you. Theres nothing you can do wrong when just breathing makes everything right.

Sometimes life happens.

Jocks usually arent smart. Their muscles feast on their brains.

Smiled. The type of smile that men drive all night in a blinding rainstorm on their bike to see. The type of smile that keep men fighting brutal wars for years in the vain of hope of seeing it again. The type of smile that made me come to my feet, because if i didnt, Id fall to my knees.

Im in love with youFinally, the girl looks at me. What?I dont know. I gesture to the house, the yard, the dirt surrounding us. Im not sure what suggested romance. Maybe it was the screaming match or the way my girlfriend kicked my ass to the ground, but I love you.Her mouth gapes. I...I...I dont want you to say it back now. One of us should have some class.

This doesn’t mean anything,” Haley whispers as she reaches up and pulls at the Velcro of my glove.“Yes, it does.” I bring my arms to my sides and the instant the gloves fall to the floor, my hands latch on to that beautiful body. “Tell me, Haley. Please tell me it does because this means something to me.

Call Stella Trash Can Girl again and Ill beat the h--- out of you. In fact, call her or anyone else anything ever again and Ill do the same. Im done saying nothing. Im done letting you treat people like crap. Do you hear me?

Thank you Jonah. He lowers his head at the break in my voice. I ignore the moisture in his eyes and pretend that mine dont sting. For what? he whispers. For showing me that people can change. Even if it is one person out of a million.

I must have killed a lot of cows in a past life for Karma to hate me this much.

But then again, I shouldnt judge. That is, after all, my pet peeve.

Heres the thing- I love you and I love her, but I swear to God Ill kick your ass if you hurt her.

I need you.Im here.And we sit in silence.

I touch the double row of silver hoop earrings hanging from his left ear, trail along his jawline, his neck, down his shoulder, to the flaming tail of the dragon on his arm. He leans into the caress, and my own body feels on fire with the continued way his eyes gaze upon me. The first moment I saw him, the night people clamored over each other to step out of his way, I was frightened. The guy with earrings and tattoos and an energy radiating danger. Now—inside and out—all I see is beauty.

The worst type of crying wasnt the kind everyone could see--the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like me and Echo, our souls contained more scar tissue than life.

It doesnt get better, I said. The pain. The wounds scab over and you dont always feel like a knife is slashing through you. But when you least expect it, the pain flashes to remind you youll never be the same.