The view outside her window is particularly nice, and if she could bring herself to be interested in anything, it would be that. “If you’re not a student, what are you doing here?” Willow is confused. Willow knows that she should leave. This she can handle. She doesn’t like the thought of going up to the stacks with him at all. No running in the halls. “I’m Guy,” he says after a moment. Just the thought of some monograph about a little-known tribe in New Guinea would have been enough to make him drool. “Lost it on the subway.” Guy shrugs. People, that's just plain silly!!!

She doesn’t have the energy or inclination to fuss with it like she once did, so she just wears it in a braid that hangs halfway down her back. Willow knows how this kind of thing works. It’s not such a bad place.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he says as he flips through the pages. Is there anything special I should know about?”. The spotlight’s off of her.

. Some may even feel that their teen shouldn't read this because it might make them want to "cut" themselves.

“Phone for you! I had to fight to keep Cut by Patrica McCormick, on my middle school shelves.

. . .

Not with Cathy downstairs, and David just coming in the door. “He’s very smart, and a lot more hardworking than most of the regular students I get. You're listening to a sample of the Audible audio edition. Most of the other people who work there are graduate students, and those who aren’t have chosen the library as their career. Please try again. “You don’t really look that much like your brother,” Guy continues after a few moments. David had just been finishing graduate school. “They’re dead,” she repeats just to make sure he gets it. But she can hardly tell David about that. She would love to be reading her father’s copy of Bulfinch instead of this flimsy paperback that she bought at one of the chain bookstores around the city. Because I remember your brother saying that they were in the field too.” He smiles again, completely unaware of the effect he’s having on her. “Male or female?” David says at the same time. “Listen, I have to get out of here.” She offers a glimpse of a smile. She never takes her eyes off of them as she slices into her flesh. I met someone in the library who was in one of your classes last year.” Willow says this tentatively. He and Cathy had been about to become parents. David must have taught her the song, an old Russian lullaby that their mother used to sing to them. She reaches out a hand to cover them in the mirror. Still, Willow can’t help thinking that any of her friends from back home would be thrilled to have someone like Guy ask them out. I’d love to work in the library.” His expression is pleasant and his voice is good-natured. Excuses carry no weight with her. She slows down to a walk. She does not want any coffee. Willow squints trying to see herself as she’d been the fall before. She has an urge suddenly to smash her head against the mirror. He’s probably only a few years older than she is, if that. Worse than dead, their expression is simply blank. “Do you know where this is?” she asks, looking at the card he’s filled out.

“They usually only hire students,” he continues. Told in an arresting, fresh voice, Willow is an unforgettable novel about one girl's struggle to cope with tragedy, and one boy's refusal to give up on her. Sometime around when she turned ten or eleven, things had evened out somehow, he’d become her confidant, her friend, her protector.

Now she has left behind her old home, friends, and school, and blocks the pain by secretly cutting herself. Willow stands up abruptly, but her shoelace gets tangled with the chair leg and she pitches forward. Any better? The first occasion had been when David wanted to pack up their parents’ books and move them to the apartment.

Willow couldn’t care less at this point. Please try again. “He worked it out.” The elevator stops and they get off.

She bets that he’s a retired professor who still likes to read. It reminds her of the girls back at school. He has to worry about how he’s going to make ends meet. At first Willow was sure that it was just a matter of time. Prime members enjoy FREE Delivery and exclusive access to music, movies, TV shows, original audio series, and Kindle books.

It’s always interesting to see the different types that wander in. Adrian, I’ll call you later.” To Willow’s surprise, Guy says good-bye to his friend and continues walking with her.

First coffee, then a movie. only the effect is something quite different. “Oh, sure, I just . I was waiting so incredibly impatiently for this book to arrive, and was so happy when it did.

“But not in a good, old, bookish sort of way, but in a kind of . . Well, not quite over; another forty-five minutes. The characters in Willow are real people with complex emotions and personalities. At home she’d moved into David’s old room because it was the biggest. Of course, back home any money she made would have gone straight into her own pocket. Threatens to overwhelm her.

It's beautiful. “Umm, I think he said that we looked alike. Obviously tonight is Chinese. In fact, that excursion had affected David so badly that he refused to enter the house again. “I have to go,” Willow says. At times like that she would stay with David and Cathy for the weekend, much to the envy of all her friends.

To see that in the end she does reach out for help, but to get there is hard, oh so hard. “What’s your last name?”. Hoban does this though, she makes you, the reader, understand what is going on with Willow and why she chooses self-mutilation as the way she deals with her feelings. “Yeah, sorry, I’m in the shower!”.

He doesn’t look as if there’s anything on his mind besides books. Spitting at herself.

Willow thinks back to when she was five and he was fifteen. “What happened to the copy that you bought at that used bookstore?” Of course she doesn’t really care about what happened to his copy, and it’s kind of a stupid question, stupid and boring, but she doesn’t know what else to say, and she doesn’t feel relaxed enough to sit there with him in silence. She’s tired. The lights click off suddenly and they stand in the darkness for a moment before Guy reaches out and presses the timer.

Fast shipping! Taking care of her stuff isn’t the easy task it once was either. She rolls up her sleeves and examines the most accessible cuts, then opens the medicine cabinet and takes out a tube of disinfectant. She’s only been there a handful of times since the accident.

Her room is very small, but kind of special, like something out of a fairy tale, or a movie about Paris. “Fine,” Willow says. Willow Randall stares at the girl seated opposite her.

If David doesn’t want to talk about it, it can only be because of how painful the topic is, and Willow refuses, absolutely refuses, to hurt him more than she already has. Willow switches her attention to the guy leaning against the circulation desk behind Miss Hamilton. Then he sits down on the floor as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if the only thing that he could possibly want to do with his time is talk to her. The bathroom smells like smoke. It takes a while, at least ten minutes, but finally she is done ministering to her wounds. . She forgets about sitting on the window seat in the living room on rainy Saturday afternoons working her way through all his favorite books. . Willow notices what a friendly smile he has. “Yes. Willow shuts her eyes, drinking in the quiet. It’s much better than it sounds, actually. . Cute and reads books too.

Carlos is one of the graduate students, he’s almost as old as her brother.

. The stacks are dark; the lights are on a timer, which Willow quickly presses. Just for a second she forgets that Tristes Tropiques was her father’s favorite book. Unable to add item to List.

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