kells

“I decide that I hate him. I will not talk to him, or question him again, or reach out to him. I couldn’t care less if he lives or dies.
Seriously. I mean it.
The moment I get home from school, I text Caz:
hey
are u feeling slightly better?”
― Ann Liang, This Time It's Real

“Whatever works,' I say sweetly, relishing the flash of genuine surprise on his face before I wrap one hand around the nape of his neck and pull him forward.”
― Ann Liang, This Time It's Real

“You better not,' I warn, jabbing a finger at him.
He stares down at my outstretched finger, then back up at me, and a much more familiar—and kickable—look of amusement sprawls itself across his features. 'Has anyone ever told you that you can be pretty scary sometimes?”
― Ann Liang, This Time It's Real

“I expect Caz to move away, but instead he slides his long fingers around my wrist. Runs a thumb over the frayed string bracelet there.
'You always wear this,' he says.
I nod. Swallow. 'Yeah. I know.'
He waits for me to say more, but I’m too busy trying to act normal, like I’m not hyperaware of how close we are, how his hand is still moving slowly over my skin, his touch warmer and lighter than the summer air.”
― Ann Liang, This Time It's Real