The Boyfriend

by Freida McFadden

And I’m terrified that the moment I get her alone, I will wrap my fingers around her pretty, white neck and squeeze the life out of her.

is not the same man as in the photo. I’m even more sure of that than I am of the fact that I enjoy long walks through Central Park and bingeing Netflix.

Kinda cheese wtf

can’t help but notice the way Kevin towers over me. I tend to like tall men, but he badly needs a little meat on his bones. It feels like I’m walking next to a broomstick.

This is hitting too close to home wtf

“Well,” he adds, “except for your arms.” “My arms?” “They’re kind of flabby.” He wrinkles his nose. “But other than that, wow. Like I said, you’re the perfect woman.”

“Hot damn,” Kevin remarks, following the path of the waitress with his eyes as she goes to get our drinks. “She has really nice arms.”

What a great meet-cute. I can already imagine telling the story to our children. This jerk was trying to kiss me, and that, kids, is how I met your father.

I feel like I alr know the plot

I recognize the face of Brandi Healey from our class, who ran away from home way back at the beginning of the school year, which is why the flyer is now crumpled and weatherworn.

This feels important

I wonder what it’s like to cut into a person with a scalpel. To feel their skin separate under my hand. To see their insides. I can’t wait to find out.

I am always polite, because at home there are consequences if I’m not. “Are you always such

Truth be told, I’ve only kissed a girl once, and I didn’t even want to do it. She kissed me. Except the only people who know about that are me and her. And now just me.

After all, the less time I spend with the chief of police, the better.

I have something called von Willebrand disease, which basically means that if I get a papercut, I’m going to leave a trail of blood behind me.

hot, single doctor who just hits her up for booty calls? She’s got to be out of her mind if she thinks this guy is settling down anytime soon.

Ok maybe I am reading into everything too much but this is interesting and now I feel like I can’t tell where things are going

Romance novels give you an extremely unrealistic concept of romance. If I were a character in one of those books, our meet-cute would have quickly been followed by Mystery Man ripping off his T-shirt to reveal gleaming, rock-hard abs and then thrusting his throbbing loins against me.

Why is dating so hard? Why can’t I just find a great guy, marry him, and live happily ever after? Is that really too much to ask for?

Maybe it’s not such a good idea to get involved with a random guy I found wandering around my neighborhood late on a Tuesday night.

I hate when girls don’t listen to their gut

not.” She adjusts the scrunchie in her hair. “I don’t want to be alone with Randy. He gives me the creeps.”

There’s something about the way he looks at me sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes. He stares just a little too long. And it doesn’t exactly feel like he’s checking me out, like some guys do. It’s something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I can’t pretend I don’t know what Bonnie means when she says he’s creepy.

So is every man a problem the bc that’s exhausting

realize that while we were kissing, the daisy fell from her fingers. When I look down, I see it under my sneaker, the white petals smashed into the pavement.

“Who…?” I start to ask, but then I notice what she’s looking at. It’s one of those old missing signs for Brandi Healey—the runaway. “Oh. Guess not.” “How long has it been?”

Is that the real Kevin outside the yoga studio?

Omg if this is slug trying to warn her I’ll be DAMMED

“Fine,” I say. “Should I grab a shovel?” Slug shakes his head. “I already got a couple in the back seat.” Of course he does.

Omg are they a TEAM???? UPDATE I DID NIT KNOW THE PLOT