JUST PYNCH

BLUE LILY, LILY BLUE P.1

"Maybe I dreamt you," [Ronan] said.

"Thanks for the straight teeth then," Adam replied. (pg. 13)

Blue's voice warred with the engine and Ronan's still abusive electronica. It seemed impossible that Adam could sleep through it. (pg. 33-34)

For a moment, he watched Ronan and tried to imagine that he was a teacher instead of a Ronan. It was impossible. Adam couldn't decide if it was how he'd shoved up his sleeves or the apocalyptic way he tied his tie. (pg. 78)

This was the version of himself he prepared for Aglionby, for his older brother Declan, and sometimes, for Gansey.

Ronan was always saying that he never lied, but he wore a liar's face. (pg. 79)

When he answered it, he was first surprised that the person on the other side was real, and then he was surprised that the person was Gansey and not Ronan. (pg. 96)

Part of him hoped they hadn't, though he tried his best to kill the baser emotions regarding his friend—if he let them run wild, he would be jealous of Ronan, jealous of Blue, jealous of Gansey with either of the other two. (pg. 122)

"What do you think of the idea of researching Greenmantle's spiderweb? Possible? Not possible?"

"Anything's possible."

"Do it, then, for me." Ronan said.

By the time Adam had leaned to get a rag to get the grease out of his ear, the other boy had gone. It was as if he had taken all of the noise in the garage with him; the wind had died down, so the leaves no longer rattled, and the radio's tuning had shifted so the station was ever so slightly fuzzy. It felt safer, but also lonelier. (pg. 130)

Inside was a colorless lotion that smelled of mist and moss. Replacing the lid with a frown, he turned the container over, looking for more identifying features. On the bottom, Ronan's handwriting labeled it merely: manibus.

For your hands. (pg. 131)

"Democracy's a farce," Ronan said, and Adam smirked, a private, small thing that was inherently exclusionary. An expression, in fact, that he could've very well learned from Ronan. (pg. 154)

CHAPTER 20:

As they moved through the old barn, Adam felt Ronan's eyes glance off him and away, his disinterest practiced but incomplete. Adam wondered if anyone else noticed. Part of him wished they did and immediately felt bad, because it was vanity, really: See, Adam Parrish is wantable, worthy of a crush, not just by anyone, someone like Ronan, who could want Gansey or anyone else and chose Adam for his hungry eyes. (pg. 159)

"You wanna see what I've been working on?" Ronan asked. All casual.

"Sure," Adam replied. All casual. (pg. 159)

It was so different from what Adam's father had pinned to his workspace walls that again Adam considered Ronan's admiration of him.

Ronan held it up to the light. The air from the inside rolled from one side to another. Maybe not air at all. Maybe a liquid. Adam could see it reflected in his blue eyes. (pg. 161)

Light, or something like light, reflected off it onto Ronan's chin and cheeks, rendering him stark and handsome and terrifying and someone else. (pg. 165)

Adam heard a whisper in his ear. Something moved and stirred inside him. Ronan's eyelashes fluttered darkly.

What are we doing— (pg. 165)

Ronan's eyes were opened; fires burned in them. (pg. 165)

Ronan turned away, lashes low over his eyes, expression hidden, burdened by being born, not made. (pg. 167)