Book: Extremely loud & incredibly close

Two young friends, whose phone rope stretches between the Islands, were forced to constantly unwinding coils, as in kite flying when they want to they soared higher.
"You almost unheard," said the girl from her room in Manhattan, squinting into his father's binoculars, hoping to find the window of his friend.
"So you'll have to shout," said her friend from his room in the Sixth district, bridging presented to him in the past year, the telescope at her apartment.
Rope their phone and then stretched the beyond, and it had all the time to lengthen the other ropes, bound together with string from his yo-yo, the lace from her talking doll, harness, holding his father's journal, wax line, not giving pearl necklace from her grandmother to crumble on the floor, the thread holding baby patchwork blanket brother, his grandfather from turning into a mountain of rags. Now in addition to everything else they also had a yo-yo, doll, diary, necklace, and patchwork blanket. They still had so much to say to each other, and the rope was getting smaller.
The boy asked the girl to whisper, "I love you" - in its tin, without explaining why.
And she asked why, and said, "Nonsense" or "our love", and even began to make excuses, saying that says "I love you" only because he asks her. She just said, "I love you". Her words ran on a yo-yo, the doll, the diary, the necklace, the patchwork blanket, clothesline, Christmas gift, harp, tea bag, t-shirt racket, the frill of the skirt he one day should have been on it to undo. The boy closed canning jar lid, untied from the rope and hid it caught in her love on the shelf in my closet. Of course, open the jar it was impossible, because at least then its contents vanished. But it was just enough to know that it has one.