He drives like a maniac. It was terrifying.

I do a good job of blocking painful, unnecessary things from my memory.

I always say too much when I’m talking to you — that’s one of the problems.

I decided it didn’t matter.

I’m not always the most dangerous thing out there. Let’s leave it at that.

As it happens, I don’t mind being alone with you.

I was mentally calculating my chances of reaching the truck before he could catch me. I had to admit, they weren’t good.

You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get my hands on a master cylinder for a 1986 Volkswagen Rabbit?

And then Edward stepped out from the trees, his skin faintly glowing, his eyes black and dangerous. He held up one hand and beckoned me to come to him. The wolf growled at my feet. I took a step forward, toward Edward. He smiled then, and his teeth were sharp, pointed.

I knew exactly where my pepper spray was — still in my duffle bag under the bed, never unpacked.