“She’s not my type,’ Carter says.’So what is your type?”Tall, skinny, black hair, blue eyes, freckly nose. Blue tinsel wig and snowflakes optional.”Skinny?’ I squeal.’Definitely. Pretending to be shy, sensible and stand-offish when really you’re mad about me.”You sure about that?”No, but I’m hoping.”
— Cathy Cassidy
“Instead of blue skies and sunshine, there are grey clouds and endless rain that seeps into your bones, your soul.”
— Cathy Cassidy