More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Behind them, Topher followed, but when he got to my books, he hesitated. His blue-violet eyes stared down at my things with a frown before he glanced over at me as if trying to make his mind up about something. Despite the fact I was one hundred percent sure I was turning into a human tomato, I stared right back, daring him to laugh at me some more or do something as equally jerky as his friends. But he did none of those things. Instead, he turned his attention back to my scattered things and bent over, reaching toward one of my books. He picked it up and held it out while I held my breath.
But when it came to Penelope Ewe, I was completely culpable. Flash back to when we were in the sixth grade and she was announced as the new girl at school. I still remembered her crooked, careful smile and the hope in her eyes. Back then, her chestnut locks hung nearly to her waist, and all I remembered thinking in my eleven-year-old brain was how she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.
“You know what? We make choices every day that make us who we are. No point in apologizing if you’re going to continue being a prick. ”
At the end of the day, integrity is all you’ve got. People can strip you of your possessions, money, pride—everything you hold dear—but not your integrity. That’s the one thing they can’t touch. The one thing that’s always yours.
If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.
Well, only you can live your life. And you get one. It’s yours to screw up, just as much as it is to make it everything you want it to be.
“Because most good things in life are hard. They’re never easy, are they? If they were, they wouldn’t be so rewarding.”
“Greatest fear?” I asked. “To be seen.” Her throat bobbed. “You?” “To never really be seen at all,” I said in a husky voice. “But, P, there’s one problem with yours.” Her eyes dropped to my mouth. “What’s that?” I lifted my hand to the side of her face, placing it over her cheek. “I already see you.”
“Because . . . it’s not rational for me to love you. It doesn’t make sense. We don’t fit on paper. It’s not prudent or expected, and it certainly wasn’t what I wanted. I hadn’t planned for this, quite the opposite.”
“Whatever our souls are made of, hers and mine are the same.” “Emily Bronte,” I whispered. “Wuthering Heights.” And then he kissed me.