Sydney Blake

Here's an excerpt from How to Save a Life: 

Mack would rather think about Jennifer's legs. Her tits. That demure smile. He'd much rather sit around and moon about that for a while, but the situation with his mother crowded out the pleasant memories of the night he'd spent with the beautiful blond. 

Damn. Later. He opened his closet door. 

The next thing that jumped into his mind was her. 

Not Jennifer. 

Ren. 

He did it to himself. Every day. That fucking shirt, the one he'd worn to the funeral. It hung in his closet, on the inside of the door, so that he saw it every day. Smelled it. Her spicy, floral scent still on the fabric, though faded. He wasn't even sure if he could really smell it anymore--Was it just his memory of the smell that haunted him?--and there, beneath the collar, was her lipstick. A small, rosy smudge. 

Mack's heart beat a little faster when he thought of Renata, and he felt an ache in the middle of his chest. 

You're still a fucking idiot. She's gone, you asshole.