Quotes
“It’s a lot.” I eye the gorgeous stained glass windows that run along the exterior wall and the elaborate carved molding that decorates the arched ceiling.
“It is.” She slows down until I catch up. “But it’s home.”
“Your home,” I whisper, doing my best not to think of the house I left behind, where my mother’s front porch wind chimes and whirligigs were the most wild-and-crazy thing about it.
“Our home,” she answers as she pulls out her phone and sends a quick text.
“It is.” She slows down until I catch up. “But it’s home.”
“Your home,” I whisper, doing my best not to think of the house I left behind, where my mother’s front porch wind chimes and whirligigs were the most wild-and-crazy thing about it.
“Our home,” she answers as she pulls out her phone and sends a quick text.
“‘There are more things in heaven and hell, Horatio, / Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”
“Earth,” I correct before I can think better of it.
He crooks one midnight-black brow in question, so I continue. “The quote is, ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio.’”
“Is it now?” His face doesn’t change, but there’s something mocking in his tone that wasn’t there before, like I’m the one who made the mistake, not him. But I know I’m right—my AP English class just finished reading Hamlet last month, and my teacher spent forever on that quote. “I think I like my version better.”
“Even though it’s wrong?”
“Especially because it’s wrong.”
“Earth,” I correct before I can think better of it.
He crooks one midnight-black brow in question, so I continue. “The quote is, ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio.’”
“Is it now?” His face doesn’t change, but there’s something mocking in his tone that wasn’t there before, like I’m the one who made the mistake, not him. But I know I’m right—my AP English class just finished reading Hamlet last month, and my teacher spent forever on that quote. “I think I like my version better.”
“Even though it’s wrong?”
“Especially because it’s wrong.”
Still, you’re totally my favorite cousin.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m your only cousin.”
“Doesn’t mean you aren’t also my favorite.”
“My dad uses that line.”
“That you’re his favorite cousin?” I tease.
“You know what I mean.” She sighs in obvious exasperation. “You’re a dork; you know that, right?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m your only cousin.”
“Doesn’t mean you aren’t also my favorite.”
“My dad uses that line.”
“That you’re his favorite cousin?” I tease.
“You know what I mean.” She sighs in obvious exasperation. “You’re a dork; you know that, right?”
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