Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail (Bright Falls, #2)

by Ashley Herring Blake

“Yeah, you really did,” Delilah said.

Thank you!! Someone bas to speak the truth

And here was the proof—when shit went down, Astrid Parker was entitled, arrogant, and an all-around bitch.

yuuuuuup

As Astrid sat in her dark living room, thinking about how her lone email of the day was from her own mother, bearing news of her ex-fiancé’s blissful happiness with another woman, she tried to figure out why.

I mean, because your mother is a narcissist and a bitch? That seems to top the list

How was Jordan so friendly with everyone already?

She’s personable and not a twat??

“Imagine it’s something you hate. Or someone. The forty-fifth president. Racists and homophobes.

Yesssssssss

And this project was even more invigorating, picturing the kitchen that actually fit what the Everwood was, modernizing while honoring history and story.

Yeeessssssss can be this!!! Not the subway tile and fucking shaker cabinets

Uninspired. Un-fucking-inspired.

If the shoe fits, Ho.

Well, Astrid, and Jordan’s own brother’s complete lack of faith, but potatoes, potahtoes.

Honestly the need to be recognized for what they do is all these two have in common

She knew Iris meant well, that she really just wanted Astrid to have some well-earned fun, but Astrid had always hated this view of herself—uptight, unable to let go, cold.

THEN QUIT BEING THAT PERSON. Good god

Jordan shook her head, then knocked back another glug of liquor. “She survived. Been in remission now for, oh, I think she must be going on fourteen months?”

Wait. WHAT?!??

She never made great decisions when she drank bourbon.

Lolol saaaaaaame

“Sexuality is complicated. It’s not static. People change and sexuality can change too.”

Ahhhhh. Wisdom. Insight

I don’t want a best friend. I want a destiny.

I want a best friend AND a destiny. Fiery passion burns out. My best friend is always there

“By kick her ass, I mean kick her ass true lesbian style, where I glare at her with my mouth all twisted up like a butthole and give her the silent treatment.”

Ah yes. The ol’ Gen Z stare

It literally exists for pleasure. The clit is badass.” Jordan grinned. “ ‘The clit is badass.’ Can I get that stitched on a pillow?”

I want it embroidered on something too!

She’d baked Jordan her cake. A simple yellow cake with chocolate icing, which apparently was Jordan’s favorite.

It should be everyone’s favorite. It’s fucking DELICIOUS

Jesus. Jordan. She was still dressed in nothing but a sports bra and Astrid’s shorts and she’d . . . she’d answered the door like that. No wonder Isabel was in full bitch mode.

Sounds like mom needs to mind her fucking business

“And why is the woman you’re technically working for in your house dressed like she’s at a slumber party?”

None. Of. Your. Business. Cunt. PLEASE I NEED YOU TO CUT HER OFF ASS. Please. I just started to like you. Jordan makes you a better human

Astrid hated it. She hated the person she became in her mother’s presence. But she didn’t know how not to be this person. Her mother . . . she was all Astrid had. Her only family. Her only everything for most of her thirty years.

Except she’s not, babes. You have your friends. Now Jordan. Fucking drop this horrid excuse of a sack of shit

“Oh, it’s not? But it’s fair to declare that spending time with me, partnering with me, doing things you clearly fucking love”—she flung her arm behind her, toward all the desserts currently swallowing the kitchen—“is a mistake. Just because your mother doesn’t like it?” “That’s not what I meant.” “See, I think you did. I think you are so fucking lost, you don’t know who you are or what you want. And you’re letting your mom call the shots like a coward.”

FUCK YES!!!!!!!!! Someone HAD TO FINALLY SAAAAAY IT

job and how Isabel was putting Bright Designs