Hunger

“You ever meet someone you can’t quite forget?” Lana asked him. “Someone who you meet them and forever after it’s like they own a piece of you?”
“No,” Quinn said. He felt a little disappointed. “I guess he’s a lucky dude.”
Lana was so startled, she laughed. “No. Not that kind of guy. Maybe not a guy at all. Maybe not…well, not a dude the way you mean. More like someone took a fishing hook, right? Like they took that hook and stuck it in me like I was a worm. You know how on the end of a fishhook there’s this bard? So you can’t pull it out without ripping a big hole in yourself?”
Quinn nodded without really understanding.
“And then, maybe, here’s what’s weird, right: You almost want the fisherman to reel you in. It’s like, okay, you have that hook in me, and it hurts, but I can’t get it out. I’m stuck. So just reel me in. Just get it over with and stay out of my dreams because they’re all nightmares.”

Michael Grant - 151-152