"You used to write on the walls," Jason gasps suddenly, even though it kills him to take his mouth off of her. "That first time I came to you, really wantin' you, there was writing all over the place. And it was summer there all the time, except when it was winter, nothing in between. I got my tongue stuck on a metal pole."

He stares up at her, amazed, like she's got some kind of magic. Maybe, for once, it's good magic.