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My roommates call me a hopeless romantic. I let them. It’s nicer than being called a lonely hermit.
Because that’s what nonfictional men do: disappoint you.
Reading is so much fun, but I’m tired of feeling like all the best parts of my life have been lived inside my own head.
“That’s the spirit, champ. Keep up that nervous wreck energy. All my best going-out stories start with some anxiety and too many tequila shots. I have a good feeling about this.”
it feels like I missed the lecture where I was supposed to learn how to have a crush without letting it consume me body and soul.
but it’s scary to be a straight woman when you never know if your new crush might actually be a closeted racist, a serial killer, or a cryptocurrency enthusiast.
faded poster of Harry Styles in his One Direction era.
who fits the description Nina gave me right down to the vague Speak Now–era Taylor Swift resemblance.
I’m mad you thought I would do that. I’m mad I didn’t take the time to introduce you to everyone on the team so you wouldn’t feel so nervous and weirded out. I rushed this—right from the fucking start—and I don’t know how to take it slow with you, and it makes me feel stupid and selfish and out of my goddamned mind. So yeah. I’m fucking furious, Holiday. But none of that changes how I feel about you.”
It feels so utterly Jane Austen that I think I might cry.
“I want you so bad it hurts sometimes,”
He clears his throat and says, “I want to kiss you.” My heart hiccups. I whisper, “Prove it.”
Best-case scenario, I figured Harry Styles would notice me at the back of one of his concerts and whisk me to an unspecified European city to do adorably artsy date activities before we eventually made love, by candlelight, on a bed of rose petals (a girl can have her dreams, and this was one I’d nursed since high school and gradually tacked more plot points onto over the years).
I’m always going to be a reader. And I’m always going to be a romantic.
The books around us are quiet, in the way inanimate objects are, but I can feel them around us—full of magic; full of possibility.
