More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
His name was Alexander Brougham,
His name was Alexander Brougham,
Brougham. Pronounced BRO-um, not Broom. It was an easy name to remember, because it was pronounced all wrong, and that had irked me since the first time I’d heard it.
Brougham. Pronounced BRO-um, not Broom. It was an easy name to remember, because it was pronounced all wrong, and that had irked me since the first time I’d heard it.
You’ll have many first kisses in your life, and I promise most of them will turn out better than this one. You deserve someone who’s psyched to kiss you, and who can’t get enough of you, and who will call you immediately after to set up a time to hang out. Don’t lose your dignity by chasing after someone who’s made it clear they’re not psyched. You’re too good for that.
had to make up for what I’d done last year. This time, I was going to be supportive. I was going to be happy for Brooke. I was going to have her back in this. Even if it made my insides rot.
“I did what you said, and she was the one who brought up taking a day trip there as friends, so right now I’m convinced you’re either a witch or a genius.” “And I’ll never let you know which one it is.
“Who is this boy? What does he want with you? Why haven’t I heard of him before?”
“Um, the real question here is why don’t you quiz me like this when girls come to the door?”
“Because teenage girls are sweet and responsible and understand consent, and teenage boys are every father’s nightmare come true.”
“Our dad, the ally,”
“No, I mean…” He suddenly looked uncomfortable. “I was the one who wanted to be talking more often. Not her.”
And for once, I had no words. How was I supposed to speak when my whole view of Brougham was crumbling into a thousand pixels and rearranging itself to tell the story of a person who looked nothing like the version of him I had in my head?
“You sound awfully surprised.” I pressed my lips together and kept drawing. “You shouldn’t be so sexist, Philips,” Brougham continued lightly, picking a lint ball off his sweater. “Assumptions like that’ll keep me trapped in the claws of toxic masculinity.”
A throbbing in my jaw warned me I was clenching my teeth. I ran my tongue around my mouth to loosen everything up and gave Winona’s stick figure a new speech bubble: “No!! I hate your face!!” “How did you know she said that?” Brougham asked in mock amazement. “You are a miracle worker.”
From the tone of her voice, it sounded more like she meant “sounds like you’re jealous and skewing Raina into an irredeemable caricature so you can convince yourself the relationship won’t last long.” Which was simply the rudest, most accurate thing she’d ever said to me. I suddenly hoped her bread bowl was stale.
But she hadn’t chosen me. She was never going to. And it didn’t matter how caring I was, or how much effort I put into my hair and makeup, or how much time I put in. It was me, as I was, that wasn’t doing it for her.
😭😭
“And she’ll marry her,” I spat out. “I bet you anything she’ll marry her, because that’s just how my luck is going. And they’ll go on all these fancy trips to the snow and pose in their fancy ski gear and Raina will propose on
top of fucking Mount Everest and I’ll find out on Instagram and I’ll have to pretend to be happy for them.” “That is so specific.”
“It’s just my gut feeling, okay? And Brooke will be all happy—” “Yeah, fuck her, right?” Ainsley deadpanned. “—and she won’t even miss Austin and Ally.” “Who are Austin and Ally?” “That’s what we were going to call our twin babies.” I stabbed a fork into my mac and cheese, then stabbed again. “No, as your sister, I would not allow you to name your kids after a TV couple, that is wildly creepy and gross.”
On another note I was obsessed with that show and couple 🙃
We had our couple bubble. He was my safe base. I was his.
Speaking of Brougham? Of all the terrifying decisions I’d had to make this year, among all the missteps and bad calls and failed attempts—agreeing to help Alexander Brougham was the most perfectly right decision I’d ever made.
