I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Montgomery had gotten the flowers. Sometime yesterday he’d picked wild flowers like he used to when we’d visit cousins in the country.
Books
The heel of Montgomery’s boot tapped nervously against the floor, as if he knew he was a bad liar. “I can’t say how he’ll take the news at first. He can be unpredictable, but in the end he’ll be glad you came.” He leaned forward, blue eyes simmering. His boot tapped faster. “I’m glad you came.
For a moment, he rested his hand on the pitchfork, breath ragged. Strands of hair escaped the ponytail and fell over his eyes, making him look wild, untamed. He’d changed so much from that quiet boy. He’d had to, growing up with monsters as playmates.
No serum can vhange who you are. Nor should you change. Genius or madness-it al depends on who's telling the story.
Inspiration, Self Esteem