Mayra Lazcano

“I made some mistakes. If I had a chance to do it over, knowing what I know now, I'd change some of my plans," Nita admitted, the words sticking a little in her throat. "But I don't know that I regret the choices I made. They seemed right at the time, and I learned a lot from them."
•pg.80 - Nita”
― Rebecca Schaeffer, When Villains Rise

“I swallow hard and yank out my earbuds. I push the tears back down. I'm sick of crying every time I see or hear or feel something that reminds me of her. But before I can move on, I have to shake off the weight of my past. Of our past. I need to rewrite our prologue before it destroys me. So that's exactly what I'm going to do.”
― Ashley Woodfolk, When You Were Everything

“One thing I'm sure, you can't tell about love, or the lack of it, except from the outside, from the way two people look at each other, from the things they do. It's like the way you can tell about a house, about the people in it, whether they're happy, from the way it looks from the street: A small pot of marigolds, a couple of chairs in the shade, tells you pretty much everything you need to know.
I could tell what they had. I could tell by the way he'd wrapped her up in that big coat of his that day in the rain, like he was a magician who could make them both disappear, by the way she'd walk next to him, or look at him when he talked to other people, that look saying, "This man is mine and I like how he is -- how he moves, how he laughs -- and he knows it and it's the two of us from here on, for everything." It was easy, unforced -- walking down the hall, she'd touch his elbow with a finger and he'd turn like a ship; she'd sigh and he'd look up. Sometimes at lunch, or in the library, you'd catch them looking at each other, a kind of calm in their eyes like after a smile, or before it, and know they were talking.
She loved him -- what more is there to say? There were times I'd look at them and feel something in my chest and throat, an ache that made it harder to breathe, but I was OK with it. I can say that now. I was OK with it. I didn't know it then, but I loved them both. Who's to say which one of them more?
It was the pot of flowers, the chair in the shade. . . .”
― Mark Slouka, Brewster

“She looks both determined and fierce. I hardly recognize her. She’s nothing like the broken, tormented wreck I know is wallowing on the inside. If I can be her for just one day, maybe I’ll have a chance to do this one thing right”
― C.L. Lauder, The Quelling: Befriend your enemy, save your friend.