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“Well, that’s news to exactly no one, but explain yourself,” she demands in a British accent as she holds her pencil up like a sword.
ew.. plz stop
There may or may not be a small notebook in my room with a furry seafoam cover that is dedicated to all the reasons I find Malik crush-worthy.
what??
His thick, commanding eyebrows that perfectly match his shiny black Fonzie-like hair. His square tortoiseshell glasses that perfectly complement his deep brown skin and the fact that he keeps a dustcloth folded in his wallet to clean them off a couple times a day. The way he wears penny loafers and puts real, shiny pennies inside them. How he rolls his jeans at the bottom and always wears subtle but seasonally appropriate socks. The way he irons his T-shirts and always wears them tucked in with a cardigan in the fall and a leather bomber jacket in the winter, like a hot South Asian greaser
...more
im sorry what?
I realize this wasn’t Mr. Prater’s intention, but it’s all sort of romantic. Sharing a book with Malik underneath the low lights as our thighs touch so frequently it’s more than an accident . . .
YALL ARE TAKING NOTES WHAT THE FUCK???
I never have to worry about Bryce. We’ve been together since freshman year. Bryce is The One. We’ve had our hiccups, but what long-term couple hasn’t?
i suddenly realise why i no longer read books set in high school anymore
He greets me with a kiss—an open-mouth kiss for everyone to see. His hands grip either side of my waist, and he literally sweeps me off my feet. We can’t keep our hands off each other. I know it can be obnoxious and over the top. But I spend my entire day 100 percent in control of my life. When I’m with Bryce, the buzzing in my brain eases and I can operate on autopilot.
barf
“Say no more,” he says, and smacks my ass. I yelp, trying to force a giggle. I might be down for public displays of affection, but that’s not exactly my flavor. Whatever. It’s not a big enough deal for me to make a thing of it.
IF YOU DONT LIKE IT TELL HIM BITCH. THATS NOT OKAY
neck. It’s the kind of feeling I get when people assume I’m dumb because I’m on the dance team or because I’m pretty.
why does that mean youre stupid?
You would think he would care about how outdated this place is or that he’d rather be at his fancy new house that looks more like the Parthenon than anything that belongs in Clover City. But he’s here. With me.
because he wants to get his dick wet
“Hello?” Why do I always say it like a question?
what
I giggle, and Bryce looks up from his phone as if he can sense my dad talking about him. Dad isn’t one of those fathers who thinks his daughter isn’t dating until she’s forty-three or that I’m completely void of hormones. But Bryce, with his flashy cars and show-stealing (and casually racist) dad, isn’t really someone my dad, who values things like a smartly organized toolbox and almost any Nicolas Cage film, especially National Treasure, has patience for.
done with this hoe
“Dad, no one’s home. If I want to have sex with my boyfriend, do you think it matters if the door is open or closed?” Bryce’s face turns ghostly white. Dad huffs. “Why do you have to go and point out logic like that?” “Love you, Dad.” “Just . . .” He clears his throat. “Make sure you’re careful and all that.” “I’ve been on the pill since I was—”
IM SORRY BUT WHO SPEAKS TO THEIR DAD LIKE THIS. i have a pretty chill relationship with my dad but im sorry even at 22 im not saying this shit to him
“You’re right. Everybody loves The Bryce.”
HOW CAN YOU BE WITH SOMEONE THAT SAYS THIS SHIT
she’s only eleven, she’s nearly taller than me. “Is that a hickey on your neck?”
AT 11 HOW WOULD SHE KNOW WHAT THAT IS. I DIDNT.
I think a harmless prank will get it out of their system.
im sorry but the seniors at my high school literally did a prank where they vandalized the school. VANDALISM ISNT A PRANK.
The whole front of the gym is normally a tinted glass storefront, but this morning the entire panel of glass is missing. Well, it’s not missing. It’s all over the floor in pieces. Someone broke in, and as my eyes begin to wander, I see that not only did they break into the gym, they vandalized the equipment, mirrors, and walls. Spray paint, eggs, toilet paper, and shaving cream. Everywhere. And those eggs smell way worse than anything my mom’s ever cooked up.
VANDALISM IS NOT A PRANK
“A joke that’s going to cost a pretty penny to repair,”
JOKES DONT COST ANYONE ANY MONEY
Mama follows me, stopping at the bottom step. “Phone,” she says. I turn on the landing and throw the dumb thing down the stairs.
Bitch.
They’ve both come to the conclusion that it would be inappropriate for you to continue on with the Shamrocks.”
JUSTICE SERVED BITCH. hate callie
Two, a few weeks ago . . . after we, ya know, did it and were cuddling, I farted.”
if you cant call it sex you shouldnt be having it
“Bo and I have started talking about doing it.” “And what exactly do you mean by ‘it’?” asks Amanda. “I mean, if you’re gonna do it, at least be able to say it.”
THANK YOU
