Every Other Day

“Sometimes, there aren’t any good choices. Sometimes, making the right one is hard.” She blinked and then cleared her throat. “It’s funny,” she said, “but when you really think about it, we’re all broken. That’s just what life does. It knocks you down and it breaks you and you either get back up again, or you don’t. You either do things on your terms, or you don’t.” She grabbed my hand, and I was surprised at the strength of her grip. “You let the bad things win, or you don’t.”

“Nathan?” I repeated, glancing over at Skylar. “Wasn’t that the brother who taught you to hot-wire cars?”
Skylar shrugged. “When he’s not stealing cars, he’s a lawyer.”

Hey, I’m just the messenger. If you have a problem with my logic, take it up with the universe at large.

That was the problem with caring about people — you had too much to lose.

“I’m fine,” I said, because that was exactly what you said when you really, really weren’t.

“I come in peace!”
“You do not come in peace. You hit me.”
“I hit in peace!”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” she volunteered helpfully, “I’m just telling you what you’re going to do. There’s a difference.”

My father would have preferred a social butterfly of a daughter; Darryl’s parents had probably been hoping for a football player. Instead, fate had dealt them a half-human demon slayer and an oversized mathlete, respectively.