❝In these dreams it's always you: The boy in the sweatshirt, The boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge. Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued. Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me.❞ -I Had A Dream About You, Richard Siken Twenty-four-year old Eli Forbes isn't sure where he's headed after college graduation. He might know that he's getting a degree in Exercise Physiology in the spring, but fuck if he knows what he's going to do with it. For now, he's content with spending his winter break helping at his aunt and uncle's coffee shop. Sebastian Steine, a quirky wayward spirit, is double majoring in comparative literature and theater at Berkeley University. As all around him his friends begin to settle down, get married, and start families of their own, it becomes clear to Sebastian that he still doesn't have a clue as to what he's doing with himself. He's a floater and that's not as pleasing as it used to be. When the two meet at Forbes Family Coffeehouse, they begin to realize they have a whole lot more in common than just their favorite order of a simple black coffee.

Elliot Spellman wanted to live; he wanted to feel the rush everyone else did. He was tired of being just some kid in the back of the class who went home every night to study in his bedroom. That was how he found himself in an alley, dealing marijuana. He wanted this, he needed this. Not marijuana, but friends, a group, the thrill. Beatle, Mi, Trick, and Whiskey all agree that he can join them in their unlawful behavior (despite how boring his name is). And they all slowly bond, except Elliot seems to bond with Beatle more than the others. Maybe, a little too much. -- There is a second book in this universe with Whiskey as the main character it is called Asymptote --

stories left behind by burnt out souls. [trigger warning: suicide. viewer discretion advised.]

My father types a command into the laptop, and he jerks upright with a shudder and a wheeze. Compressed air flowed beneath silicone skin, triggering actuators that raised his arms and lift the corners of his mouth into a demure smile. He seemed to compose himself, eyes panning the room where he stood fixed to the platform-tubes and wires running down to his ankles. He blinks, lashes casting beautiful shadows over royal blue eyes. And I fell in love with someone that was just a little human

"no longer in general use; fallen into disuse; effaced by wearing down or away."

"If the world can't handle the truth, give them a spectacular lie." Bitch. That's what they called me at my old school. I disagree: I'm just brutally honest, that's all. Some people don't like honesty. Exhibit A: Matthew's family. None of them want to acknowledge that their Golden Boy is gay. Exhibit B: My Mother. I only told her the truth: that she was a crappy parent who never should've gotten knocked up in the first place. But she was so offended that she shipped me off to my fabulously wealthy father and his walking-billboard-for-plastic-surgery of a wife. So I devised a brilliant plan. My new friend Matthew was sick of hiding his sexuality. I was tired of obnoxious rich boys hitting on me. So why not pretend to be dating? He wouldn't have to answer uncomfortable questions anymore, and I'd enter my new school as the girlfriend of the star quarterback. It should be easy, right? Of course, I didn't plan on falling for Matthew's brother.

"Give me ten days, and I can give you ten reasons not to die." Evan paused. "And if I can't change your mind by then, you can go jump off that cliff."