I called Grace right before I went into the diner. Actually, I called Sam, but Grace answered his phone.
“It’s the end,” I said. “I’m going to breakfast with my
parents.”
“I had the worst dream about you last night,” Grace mused.
“Did I go around L.A. biting people? Because that already
happened.”
“No,” she replied. “You came home.

Are you still on Minnesota time?” I asked.
“I am on whatever time makes this call last longer,” he said.
“What’s the next meal from now?

Taking risks is not being suicidal. Otherwise, skydivers need serious help.

I asked,”Are you going to pick up next time I call you?”
”I did this time didn’t I?”
“Say yes.”
“Yes. Conditionally yes.”…...
…”What conditions.?”
“Sometimes you do things like call me forty times a day and leave obscene voicemails and that’s why I don’t pick up.”
“Ridiculous. That doesn’t sound like me. I’d never call an even number of times.

Why did you even come here, Cole?”
I touched her chin. This place, this beautiful place, this girl, this beautiful girl, this music, this life. “I came here for you.

Wait —” Sam said. “Have you seen Isabel yet?”
My fingers still felt the shape of her. “Da. We embraced.
Angels sang, Sam. Those fat ones. Cherubs. Cherubim. I
must go.”
“Don’t bite people.