Attachments

by Rainbow Rowell

“Look at that horrible lush. She couldn’t part with her Zima for nine months. It’s tragic.”

First I get sick. And then I get fat. And then I die of an aneurysm in the delivery room.

“I still don’t like that you read other people’s mail. Especially at night, in an empty building. That shouldn’t be someone’s job.”

It had been a darkroom about five years and two dozen fluorescent lights ago, and with all of the lights and the computer servers, it was like sitting inside a headache.

He’s just the kind of guy you hope your daughter will meet someday at an upside-down-margarita party.

I want the boy with kaleidoscope eyes.

Am I worried that the bad guys from Tron are reading our e-mail? Uh, no.

The point is, he’s a fool who won’t give up on you.

She’d married Jake, a guy she’d met at community college. He was ten years older and in the air force. He bought her a ranch-style house in the suburbs,

Money is a cruel thing. It’s the thing that stands between you and the things you want and the people you love.”

But when he brought Sam home, that was worse. Sam would do something—rearrange the spice cabinet, turn on too many lights, say that she couldn’t stand green peppers or anything with walnuts or Susan Sarandon—that irritated his mother. “Is she always like that, Lincoln?”

She asked him to slow down, to think about seeing other girls.

“I asked if you found Tom Cruise attractive. I didn’t ask if you thought I was gay. Do you think I’m gay?”

It was unpleasantly arousing to watch. Like masturbating in a portable toilet.

Wow, what a cucumber. (Cool, I mean.)

Beth was funny. She was smart. She was interesting. And she had the sort of job that made someone more interesting. The sort of job a woman would have in a movie, a romantic comedy starring John Cusack.

“I thought you stopped saying ‘retarded’ and ‘gay’ so that your kids wouldn’t pick it up.”

Love. Purpose. Those are the things that you can’t plan for. Those are the things that just happen.

would have to be. I already love you so much. I already feel like something in my chest is going to pop when I see you. I couldn’t love anyone more than I do you, it would kill me. And I couldn’t love anyone less because it would always feel like less. Even if I loved some other girl, that’s all I would ever think about, the difference between loving her and loving you.”

never wonder what it would be like to have sex with someone else for the same reason I don’t want to kiss anyone else. You’re the only girl I’ve ever touched. And I feel like it was supposed to be that way. I touch you and my whole body . . . rings.

He felt like he could hear her talking when he read her mail, like he could see her even though he still didn’t know what she looked like.

“Your job is done. He’s risen.” “Like Jesus,” Jake said. “Not like Jesus,” Eve said.

“My boys are going to have lives of their own. They’re going to go on dates and get married and move out. I’m not going to make them feel like they aren’t allowed to say good-bye to me.”

“There’s no fat on the elbow,” she said, “so it’s a good way to assess bone structure, how big your body can get.

even though he drives a pretty distinctive car, a Toyota Corolla.

Welcome to the last 20 years of my life. It’s like she thinks she did me a favor by raising me to believe that the entire world was out to get me, by making sure I never get my hopes up.

“Why do you think I can remember that,” she asked, “when you can’t? Why does nature do that to us? How does that serve evolution? Those were the most important years of my life, and you can’t even remember them. You can’t understand why it’s so hard for me to hand you off to someone else. You want me to act casual.”

“I didn’t know love could leave the lights on all the time.