More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Because when my boyfriend proposes to me, my first thought shouldn’t be about the boy I loved—the man I can’t seem to resist no matter how far I try to push him away.
MICALEA, ITS ONLY THE SECOND PAGE
The man who took all my firsts. My first kiss. My first time. My first love. But first doesn’t always mean last.
Is this fucking play about us?!
He looks down at the plate with a tiny smile. “Eggs, huh?” “Monroe likes them,” I whisper, trying to fight the memories threatening to pull me back in time. Of course, he knows our daughter likes eggs, but he also knows I hate cooking them. They’re so slimy and it makes me gag every time I have to crack an egg. I can eat them just fine, it’s just the actual raw egg that gives me the ick.
Sometimes it’s crazy to think that Spencer and I were a couple, a young one, sure, but actual boyfriend and girlfriend. Our lives have taken us in such different directions since those days.
Our lives went in directions neither of us ever expected, but things happen for a reason, and while I might struggle in some ways, I am happy.
turning to look inside the oven. It’s probably a good idea, her checking it and all, knowing Mrs. Harrison there could be a nest of squirrels living in there.
“Eggs freak me out.” I hesitate. “They … freak you out?” She pouts her lips. I make a note that they’re the perfect shade of pink. “That’s what I said.” “How?” I ask, curious how an egg could possibly freak someone out. “The egg white is so slimy and the yolk—”
“You idiot! You burned the cookies!” She rushes for the oven, and I run from T.J.’s station to meet her. “The cookies!” she cries again. “They’re ruined!” She’s not being dramatic either. All the cookies are blackened discs, nowhere near edible. Shit. I can’t believe I messed this up. I had one job to impress the girl I have a crush on.
“Oh, um, these are for you.” I hold the plastic container out to her. “Oatmeal to make up for the ones I burned.” Her lips twitch, fighting a smile. “And if those are horrible, I got you these on my way to school.” I swing my backpack around and unzip the middle compartment, pulling out the fresh sleeve of Oreos—double stuffed of course.
“Why did you really do this?” I answer honestly. “I’m not sure yet.”
there’s the kind of love you feel for one person and one person only, but sometimes timing, circumstances, just … life … can turn that love into a bad thing. Sometimes you love someone so much, but you have to let them go anyway.”
here we go again
Ever since we broke up four years ago, he’s made it very clear that I was the one who broke things off and he never wanted to and hasn’t stopped loving me since. I still love him too, how could I not, but I’m not in love with him and there lies the difference. But that hasn’t stopped him from occasionally trying to convince me to give us a shot again.
so she’s just writing about my life?
We both know we were only ‘friends’ because we both had a crush on one another.
