Here's to Us (What If It's Us #2)

by Becky Albertalli

Some attractions take more time to grow and aren’t any less great because of it.

This is every relationship. You start with nothing and maybe end with everything.

It’s probably turned the wrong way, check and see if it has one of those top or bottom labels. My bedsheet has its own grindr profile now??

If your boyfriend asks whether your romantic gesture is worth doing, it’s not worth doing.

Because as far as personal lines in the sand go, cheating on my boyfriend is up there with voting Republican and murder.

Just because someone says they love you doesn’t mean they’ll never say it to someone else.

Happiness is tricky when it comes to the person who used to make you happy.

I’m tired of not being able to own my feelings because someone else has it worse. I know I’m lucky to have a roof over my head and parents who love me and food on the table. I know, I know, I know. I can also want more for myself.

It’s funny how you flash back to the past when you’re thinking about the future.

“I think it’s less about following my heart and more about understanding that my heart is dragging me somewhere.”

People don’t warn you that heartbreak is a chronic condition. Maybe it quiets down a little over time, or you can muffle it with distance, but the ache never quite dials down to zero. It’s there lurking in the background, ready to flare back up the minute you let your guard down.

“And it’s like, you’re so good at the big moments. Like New Year’s. The theater tickets. But I feel like we get a little lost in between those things.”

I remember the night Ben let me read his draft, how sacred that felt. At the time, it seemed like the most intimate thing you could share with a person. Your unfinished heart. But Mario’s the one carrying Ben’s dreams over the finish line. I may have been Ben’s first draft, but Mario’s his hardcover. I guess that’s how it goes, though. Sometimes happily ever afters aren’t about your happiness at all.

Hudson’s whole vibe is duh.

“Much like a narwhal,” I say, glancing back down at my paper, “I can hardly believe this moment is real.”