She shuddered. “What is it with slobbery kissers? Are they trying to drown us in spit? I mean, Jesus, swallow every now and then.
Whenever I appeared to have won an argument, Mom would say something like, 'Even broken clocks are right twice a day.
I used to think of two people in love like that. Like puzzle pieces, fitting together. But it's not like that at all. Love pulls a part of you out, and it pulls a part of him - like taffy, stretching but not separating. The tendrils of each one wrap around the other, until they meld together. One, but not quite. Separate, but not quite.
I opened my mouth wide one time to see if the words I was thinking would fall out, but they wouldn’t. If words don’t want to come out, they don’t. I don’t understand when people say things and then they say, I didn’t mean to say that. Words don’t just fall out. You have to push them out. And sometimes, you can’t push them out, even if you want to.
Everyone isn’t logical. Everything doesn’t make sense in the end. Sometimes you have to forget about explanations or excuses and leave people and places behind, because otherwise they will drag you straight down.
My last coherent thought, as Lucas took his time kissing and touching every part of me he could reach and my body arched into his, was: oh... so this is what all the fuss is about.
Landon Loucas Maxfield was asleep on his sofa. With me.
Not. Your. Fault." I nodded again, holding onto his words like they were redemption.
Every moment was a before and an after. Every moment was a now to be lived.
We were encouraged to propose safetyprevention suggestions, and write them all down— locking doors, walking or exercising with a friend, wearing shoes that don’t hinder running. Erin’s suggestion of “Avoid assholes” was popular.
I’ve been thinking about that proof I spoke of last time – that you’re where you’re supposed to be. And it occurred to me, can you prove you’d be better off somewhere else? If you’d have left the state, your relationship would have ended still. Maybe you’d have even blamed yourself, not knowing that it was doomed because of him, either way. Instead, you’re here. You got dumped, skipped class, and met the best econ tutor at the university! Who knows, maybe I’ll make you fall in love with economics.
Lucas was fifteen minutes late to class on Friday, and we had a pop quiz first thing - which he missed. My first thought was how irresponsible it was to miss a quiz… and then I remembered that I missed the midterm. I couldn't exactly point any fingers.
Wow, that sounds total stalker." Or totally hot. God.
You have a freckle here," he whispered, sweeping his tongue over a spot just under my jaw. "It drives me crazy every time you 're above me. I just want to do this..." The jentle draw of his mouth pushed me over the edge, and my knees tightened around his hips as i rocked against him.
I was sure you 'd dropped the class, which made me selfishly ecstatic. Without even knowing i was doing it, i started looking for you on campus.
Almost every time i saw you, you were with him. But one day, you walked up to the building alone. I was holding the door for several girls in front of you, and i waited for you to catch up. When you reached me, you look pleased, and a little surprised. Unlike the others, you didn't expect the door to be held for you by some random guy. You smiled up at me and said, 'Thank you.' That was the last straw. I prayed you 'd never come to a session, and not with him. I didn't want you to know i was the tutor.
I noticed you the first week. Not just because of how pretty you are, though of course, that played into it. It was the way you lean onto your elbows when you 're listening in class, when something catches your interest. And when you laugh, it's never to get attention, it's just-laughter. The way you obssevively tuck your hair behind your ear on the left side, but let the right side fall down like a screen. And when you 're bored, you tap your foot soundlessly and move your fingers on the desktop like you 're playing an instrument. I wanted to sketch you.
Good God, what did he not remember?
Not stupid. Overly trusting, maybe, but that reflects on his lack of trustworthiness, not on your intelligence.
I’ve come to ask how you do it. How you feel what I know you’re feeling and then walk away like that.
But just because you’re strong and resilient doesn’t mean you never need someone to be there for you, to take care of you.
They call it 'falling in love' because it's less like stepping and more like tripping. Tripping is the part where you're still trying to remain upright
there's not a boy on the planet worth this amount of angst. I know; i used to be one
He was in a slow-motion mood-one of my favorites, though it meant i'd be driven crazy before we were done.
"Keep looking at me,” she said, laughing as though we were having an amusing conversation. “He’s staring at you. And I mean staring. That boy is undressing you with his eyes. Can you feel it?” Her expression was triumphant. Could I feel his stare? I can now, thanks, I thought.
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