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313 pages, Hardcover
First published April 10, 2008
"I just want you to know that, okay? I don't want you to be scared that I can't handle his. I mean, you know, whatever this is." He waved his hand to indicate the general insanity that had taken over my life.
His heart was beating even louder now, and I closed my eyes and tried to calm my pulse down to match his. "I'm not scared of that," I murmured, and I wasn't. "That doesn't scare me."
"What does scare you?"
I thought for a minute, tapping my index finger against my bottom lip. "Sock puppets."
The day I broke up with my boyfriend Evan was the day he wrote the song. You know, the song. I'm sure you've heard it. Maybe you danced to it at prom or sang it in your car on a Friday night when you were driving and feeling like you must be inhuman to be this happy, the windows down and nothing but air around you. Your mom has probably hummed it while cleaning the dryer's lint trap, and your grandpa has most likely whistled a couple of bars if he's the whistling type.
According to the poll on the front page of USA Today, sixty-three percent of Americans blame me for the breakup, so let me clear the air right now.