The Little Stranger

by Sarah Waters

The words used to drive me into secret rages, because on the one hand I wanted desperately to live up to my own reputation for cleverness; and on the other it seemed very unfair, that that cleverness, which I had never asked for, could be turned into something with which to cut me down.

insignificant as a bad nut;

A part of my upset, I’m sorry to say, was simple embarrassment, a basic masculine reluctance to have my name romantically linked with that of a notoriously plain girl. Part of it was shame, at discovering I felt this. A contradictory part, too, was pride: for why the hell shouldn’t I—I asked myself—bring Caroline Ayres along to a party, if I chose to?

U should be ashamed probs ugly ass dude

‘Look, you’re tired. You’re all of you tired.’ ‘You keep on saying that!’ ‘Well, unfortunately it keeps on being true!’

She closed her eyes. As they often did when she was tired, her eyelids looked nude, moist, swollen. I kissed them, lightly.

Ew