I’ll never forget the way he tastes. It’s not anything I can describe, a little sweet and a whole lot of spice, and it feels, in that moment, absolutely right.
It’s been nice knowing you, Clara, Huh? My brain still a bit shell-shocked. Say a prayer for me, will you? He gives me a shaky grin. Because I’m pretty sure my parents are going to kill me.
I love how he sometimes gets embarrassed by the mushy stuff between us and then his voice gets all gruff and he tickles me or kisses me to shut us both up. Boy, do we ever kiss. We make out like champions.
This moment was written in the stars, and it is everything he thought it would be.
Note to self: buy some nunchucks or something.
And sometimes time really does stop.
I beat at him uselessly with my fists. I scream. My mind races. I’ll pee on him. Puke, bite, scratch. Sure, I’ll lose, but if he’s going to mark me I am going to mark him, too, if such a thing is possible.
You have made my life into something so extraordinary, you can't even know.
It's funny how when people change, you forget the way they used to be.
I’m having an argument with myself. And I’m losing. So not good.
There I go, Clara the parrot. I belong on a pirate’s shoulder.
First rule of Angel Club, you do not talk about Angel Club.
This man, this impostor of a man, can kill my body but he can’t touch my soul.
So spring break consisted of seven fun-filled days cooped up in the house with Jeffrey, who was grounded because he’d won the Regional Wrestling Championships.
But Tucker is my choice. I love him. That isn’t going to go away.
Okay, that was, I have to say, about the cheesiest thing I ever heard in my life,” I say to Angela as we’re milling around afterward. We hug, so Billy can take our picture. “I mean, seriously. Just be? You should write ads for Nike.
He’s not meeting my eyes anymore. “We’re young,” he says. “We’ve got lots of time to fall in love.
I wonder if the prayers of angel-bloods count more than regular people’s.
I don’t know what to say. This summer hasn’t turned out at all the way I’d planned. I’m not supposed to be standing in the middle of a barn with a blue-eyed cowboy who’s looking at me like he’s about to kiss me. I shouldn’t be wanting him to kiss me.
See, that’s what I like about you, Carrots You’re not fussy.