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She can’t compete with the fact that I stay on my knees for Peach until four a.m. when she decides to move in her sleep and release my arm. She can’t compete with the fact that I completely forget I have to be up early for practice the whole time I’m here. And she sure as hell can’t compete with the fact that I take the Ritalin with me when I leave, because there’s no way I’m going to make it easy for that hurricane of a woman to drug herself whenever she feels like it.
"If you're too bad at this sport to do your job, maybe you don't need to be part of this team. And since you won't be practicing cheer anymore, it won't matter if I break your legs, will it?"
"Wren, let go, or I swear I’m going to stop talking to you."
"I would choose you. Even if you weren't worth it. And you would have nothing to prove. I would choose you among a million other people. And anyone would be the luckiest person on this planet if you chose them in return."
"Then why would you say that about the woman who belongs to me? Have you never learned respect?"
"Your hair is beautiful, and I know you like to take good care of it. It's important to you. So it's important to me."
"Both?" he insists. "No. It was—the—I'm not sure. It happened too quickly." "Huh," he says to himself. "That's rather unfortunate for one of them."
“Are you in love with me, Penelope?” he blurts out.
