More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
wondering for a brief moment what it would be like to be that kind of girl—the carefree kind who lets boys lead her into dark rows of books. For funsies. Because it feels good. Not the kind of girl who spends all her waking time studying because her grades suck and she can’t afford not to.
It actually seems like something we have in common: zero tolerance for bullshit.
“Wait. You’re not sitting here.” “Why not?” She rolls her eyes. “Because you’re chatty and distracting.” “A good kind of distracting? As in, you spend your time thinking of all the ways I could fuck you distracting?”
“Fuck-ing,” I coax. “Fuck it. Fuck off.” She shifts in her seat, restless now. “I get the picture, Oswald. You can stop now.” But I don’t stop. “Fuck you. Better yet, fuck me.” The curse rolls off my tongue like a command.
but a compliment coming from Jameson Clark somehow feels like winning at life.
