No se puede pensar en lo que podría haber sido, Bryce—entonces, como si pudiera leer mi mente, añadió—: Y no es justo condenarlo por algo que no ha hecho.

I liked it.

I liked her.

And every time I saw her, she seemed more beautiful. She just seemed to glow. I'm not talking like a hundred-watt bulb; she just had this warmth to her. Maybe it came from climbing that tree. Maybe it came from singing to chickens. Maybe it came from whacking at two-by-fours and dreaming about perpetual motion. I don't know. All I know is that compared to her, Shelly and Miranda seemed so...ordinary.

...and I realized that Garrett was right about one thing- I had flipped.
Completely.

My grandfather stood beside me and looked across the street, too. "No, Bryce," he said softly. "She's the same as she's always been; you're the one who's changed." He clapped his hand on my shoulder and whispered, "And son, from here on out, you'll never be the same again.

But in my heart I knew the old Bryce was toast. There was no going back. Not to Garrett or Shelly or Miranda or any of the other people who wouldn't understand. Juli was different, but after all these years that didn't bother me anymore.
I liked it.
I liked her.

What he did to my heart was sheer, inexplicable, magic.