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In the grim, dark hellscape of academia, graduate students were the lowliest of creatures and therefore had to convince themselves that they were the best.
She didn’t want weekends, or a decent salary. She wanted to go back in time. She wanted to be less lonely. But since that was impossible, she’d settle for fixing what she could.
Do you have a brain tumor? Do I have a brain tumor?”
Maybe she should expire on the spot to avoid facing this crapfest of a situation she’d put herself in.
Maybe the J stood for “Jackass.”
“No offense. I’m a simple girl, with simple needs.”
academia was a lawless land
She had learned to grab whatever she could get away with.
“Why do you keep saying that?” “Saying what?” “‘Fake dating.’ Like it’s a thing.” “Because it is. Don’t you watch rom-coms?”
She was going to be jailed for bestfriendicide, and she was a-okay with it.
thirty-five minutes going on a century,
Olive clenched her teeth and headed in Adam’s direction, wishing she’d gone ahead and drawn twenty dicks all over Anh’s face.
refused to back out of the driveway until Olive agreed to slide a can of pepper spray in her backpack.
There. She’d put it into words, said it out loud, and it sounded all the truer because of it.
the constant feeling of not belonging, the never-ending suspicions that since so much of her life had been spent alone, then it would end the same way. That she’d never be worthy of someone caring for her.
“This guy, he’s . . .” She swallowed. What was he? Quick, Olive, quick. An immunologist? Icelandic? A giraffe? What was he?
“Carry myself with the confidence of a mediocre white man.”
“I low-key hate myself for forcing you to do all that stuff. Well, maybe not ‘hate,’ but I’d write myself a strongly worded email.
“Not being able to see something, even if it’s in front of your eyes. Purposefully making yourself blind, just because you’re afraid of seeing too much.”
and that’s why he needs to attempt something radical to his nature: diplomacy.

