I never believed in love at first sight, until I met Derek. It’s all-consuming and delicious and wonderful and exciting. At the same time, it makes me nervous and self-conscious and emotional. Love exists. I know it does, because I’m madly, deeply, hopelessly in love.
He has no clue that I have the patience of a saint. At least that’s what Carlos says, although that isn’t saying much, considering his fuse is about as short as an eyelash.
Mr. Latino with the big ego got bested by a ditzy, blond bimbo.
I flip open my phone to text Jessica: Me: Guess who’s pregnant? Jess: u? Me: Get real. Jess: ur mom? Me: yep Jess: Mazel tov!? Me: Don’t congratulate me, plz Jess: Could b worse Me: How? Jess: Could be u? Me: I’m a virgin. Jess: Nobody’s perfect.
From the moment I laid eyes on you I couldn’t stop looking at you. From the moment we talked I couldn’t stop arguing with you. From the moment we kissed I couldn’t stop kissing you. And from the moment we shared our hopes, fears and insecurities I couldn’t stop loving you.
Sometimes I wish there were do over years or fast forward days.
Football players are misunderstood. They arent the dumb jocks people think they are.
Trust me, he whispers against my lips. Maggie, you’re my paradise.
Girls like you want to cut guy’s nuts off and hang ’em from your rearview mirror.
Since you came back from summer break, our entire relationship is about fooling around. We never talk anymore, and I’m sick of feeling guilty for not ripping my clothes off and spreading my legs to prove I love you.
What would it take for you to go out with me?
I’ve had more students die than I ever thought possible. My husband urges me to quit Fairfield and teach at some school without gang members who live their lives only to die or end up as drug dealers.
I want to live life on my own terms. But I’m Mexican, so mi familia is always there to guide me in everything I do, whether I want them to or not. Well, “guide” is too weak a word. “Dictate” is more like it.
I’m poor, not homeless.
Who am I kidding? I have no reason for being here other that the fact that I want to be near her.
I’m not starting any fights. I might finish one though.
I’ve spent so much time avoiding arguments and smoothing relationships with the people around me, this confrontation is painful.
Tell me what we had was real, I whisper.
Secrets she’ll take to the grave and secrets she’s dying to share.
I guess we’re all a bunch of mismatched couples – that actually fit.