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“The Unholy Trinity are more popular for being pretty, which is honestly a goal of mine,” Baz said.
It was like constantly being haunted by herself, with no reprieve from the ghosts inside her.
I wonder what it is about this school and its obsession with naming rooms after dead white men. It’s a bit concerning, Elizabeth had said after telling Sade this fact, looking very unimpressed with it all.
“He’s all like, Your German is as confusing as your name, Basil and Stop sleeping in my class, Basil and You owe me homework, Basil! Stuff like that.”
It barely had any seating, sold a total of four drinks, a handful of sweets, and, strangely, a collection of trinkets, and was owned by a woman who looked like she was in her early forties and hated life and people.
“Fair enough, but I can bet on my signed Michael Phelps poster and on my sister’s life that you would probably be able to beat me up if it came to it.” “Ever the feminist, Augustus,” Sade replied. He smiled. “As I said, I love girls.”
By the time she was done, she had concluded that whoever decided latex was a suitable material for clothes needed to be jailed for their crimes against humanity.
“They very much are, and my mother takes the title as seriously as she does the abandonment of her children,” he replied.
Sade had learned to fear the men who had everything, because even the moon, the skies, and the earth could not sate them.
