Holden is everything. He is the epitome of the perfect guy that every girl thinks doesn’t exist, and for the time, he's mine. I ask myself daily how a guy like him could ever want a girl like me." She swings around, hanger in hand, as she points it at me. "Ari, what the hell are you talking about? You’re a fucking smokehouse, babe." I roll my eyes at her flippant remark, and she doesn’t miss it. "When and why did you start putting yourself down? I’ve noticed it lately and don’t understand where it’s coming from." "Let’s be real, Oli. I am not the girl guys flock to at parties. That's your
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