Kody Keplinger Quotes

Seriously, if the bastards cheat on you, then they don't deserve you anyway. If that's a legit fear, then you probably shouldn't be with them to begin with.

Functionality is overrated.

Anger was less painful than abandonment.

Go try your charming act on some tramp with low self-esteem, because I'm not falling for it.

I was supposed to be at the condo, wasting time on the beach, just Dad and me, figuring out college and my life and spending time together. Instead, I was in a new house with new people - including a future stepbrother who'd seen me naked.

I don't like him," I explained. "He annoys the hell out of me ninety-six percent of the time, and sometimes I'd like nothing better than to strangle him to death. But at the same time I ... I want him to be happy. I think about him way more than I should, and I -"
"You love him.

So, you're Bianca? The freshman bitch that's been screwing my boyfriend?"
"Your boyfriend? I haven't been-"
"Stay the hell away from Jake.

Love is rare and hard to find and takes years upon years to develop. Teenagers don't fall in love.

The point is, scientists have proven that every group of friends has a weak link, a DUFF. And girls respond well to guys who associate with their DUFFs."
"Crackheads can call themselves scientists now? That's news to me.

...I felt like I had nothing. Nothing but my body. It's the one thing I can control. For me, sex is my way of taking control of my body. I'm in charge.

Well," he sighed, squeezing my hand back. "I guess we were both running away in different ways."
"What do you mean?"
Dad shook his head. "Your mother took a Mustang. I took a whiskey bottle." He reached up and readjusted his glasses, an unconscious habit-he always did it when he was making a point. "I was so devastated by what your mother did to me that I forgot how horrible drinking is. I forgot to look on the bright side."
"Dad," I said, "I don't think there is a bright side to divorce. It's a pretty sucky thing all around."
He nodded. "Maybe that's true, but there are a lot of bright sides to my life. I have a job I like, a nice house in a good neighborhood, and a wonderful daughter."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh God," I muttered. "Don't go all Lifetime movie on me. Seriously."
"I'm sorry," he said, smiling. "But I mean it. A lot of people would kill for my life, but I didn't even consider that. I took it-and you-for granted. I'm so, so sorry for that, Bumblebee.

See!" Dad yelled. "Boys don't stay with whores, Bianca. They leave them. And I'm not going to let you turn into a whore. Not my daughter. This is for your own good."
I looked up as he reached a hand down to grab my arm. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to feel his fingers clamp around my forearm.
But they never did.
I heard a loud thud, and Dad grunted in pain. My eyes flew open. Wesley moved away from Dad, who was massaging his jaw with a shocked look on his face. "Why you little shithead!"
"Are you all right?" Wesley asked, kneeling in front of me.
"Did you just punch my dad?" I couldn't help but wonder if I was delirious. Had all of this really just happened? Totally bizarre.
"Yes," Wesley admitted.
"How dare you touch me!" Dad screamed, but he was having trouble balancing enough to approach us again. "How dare you fuck my daughter, then hit me, you son of a bitch!"
I'd never heard my father swear like that before.
"Come on," Wesley said, helping me to my feet. "Let's get out of here. You're coming with me." He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close against his warm body, and ushered me out the open door.

I'd say we're both pretty fucked up." "Very true.

Bianca, whore is just a cheap word people use to cut each other down," he said. His voice softer. "It makes them feel better about their own mistakes. Using words like that is easier than really looking into the situation. I promise you, you're not a whore."
I looked at him, into his warm gray eyes, and suddently understood what he was trying to tell me. The message hidden beneath the words.
You're not alone.

If Kate Winslet had been the Duff, Leonardo DiCaprio wouldn't have been after her in Titanic and that could have saved all of us a lot of tears.

I mean, just because my voice actually worked didn't necessarily mean I could use it well in his presence.

Oh, please stop," I said, moving to sit down beside her on the bed. "No. Nothing like that. It's ... it's letting someone that close to me. Physically and emotionally. Randy and I got close a few times, but ... I chickened out. I'm afraid of letting someone have that kind of power over me. Not being in control is what scares me.

Sorry," she said. "I'm just ... surprised. It's weird. Sex was never scary to me." She paused. "So what about it do you find scary? Like, penises? Because I can see how those might be a little scary.

I couldn't resist the urge to reach over to the gearshift and put my hand over Wesley's. His skin was warm and soft, and I could feel his pulse throbbing steadily beneath my palm. I forgot about my stupid car and my fight with Casey. I just wanted Wesley to smile again. Even that cocky grin would have worked. I hated that he was so hurt by the possibility of losing his sister's respect. I wanted to comfort him. I cared about him.
Oh my God. I actually cared?

I'd never felt like this, like I wanted to climb into another person's skin.

P.s.: I know you're rolling your eyes right now, but I don't care. Honestly, it's always kind of been a turn on.

That just proves there's something going on with you and Mr. Jackass.

Learn some manners or I'll email the whole high school about how small your dick is - because we both know that I'm aware of exactly how small it is."
"Whore," he muttered, shooting Chloe a filthy glare over his shoulder.
"Ha. You might have better luck with a whore, actually. Me You couldn't pay me to bang you again. Dick's too minuscule to keep a lady satisfied.

A lot of people would kill for my life, but I didn't even consider that. I took it - and you - for granted. I'm so, so sorry for that

Don't pretend, Bianca," he said. "You're smarter than that, and so am I. I finally figured out what you meant when you left. You said you were like Hester. I get it now. The first time you came to my house, when we wrote that paper, you said Hester was trying to escape. But everything caught up with Hester in the end, didn't it? Well, something finally caught up with you, but you're just running away again. Only, he"-Wesley pointed to my bedroom door-"is your escape this time." He took a step toward me, forcing me to crane my neck even more to see his face. "Admit it, Duffy."
"Admit what?"
"That you're running away from me," he said. "You realized you're in love with me and you bailed because it scared the shit out of you.

On the ground, Cash gave a signal, and all the guys lined up by the pool. In unison, they stripped off their shirts and tossed them onto the grass. An audible sigh- like the ones you hear on a sitcom that is "filmed in front of a live studio audience"- filled the room. It was almost funny, really. Such a strong reaction to a bunch of shirtless boys.

Wesley Rush was the most disgusting womanizing playboy to ever darken the doorstep of Hamilton High ... but he was kind of hot. Maybe if you could put him on mute ... and cut off his hands ... maybe - just maybe - he'd be tolerable then. Otherwise, he was a real piece of shit. Horn dog shit.

Why are you here, Wesley?"
"I told you," he said. "I got worried. You've been avoiding me for the past week at school, and when I called you today, you didn't answer. I thought something might have happened with your dad. So I came to make sure you were okay."
I bit my lower lip, a wave of guilt washing over me. "That's sweet," I murmured. "But I'm fine. Dad apologized for the other night, and he's going to AA meetings now, so…"
"So you weren't going to tell me?"
"Why would I?"
"Because I care!" Wesley yelled. His words crashed into me, stunning me for a second. "I've been worried about you since you left my house a week ago! You didn't even say why you left, Bianca. What was I supposed to do? Just assume you would be all right?"
"God," I whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"I'm worrying about you, and you're fucking that pretentious little-!"
"Hey!" I shouted. "Don't bring Toby into this.

God really must have had a sense of humor, because if I had to name my biggest turn-on, it was literature. And he had just recommended a book that I didn't know, that wasn't taught in school. If I were single, there would be no better pick-up line.

Just remember to do what makes you happy, okay? Don't lie to yourself because you think it's safer. Reality
doesn't work like that ... . I think I told you that before.
She had.
But I'd been running for so long I wasn't sure what I wanted anymore.

Shave that Moses beard and you might have better luck. Women don't want to kiss carpet, you know.

I don't really do friends,' I told him.
'Good,' he said. 'I don't want you to "do" me. We've established the flaws in that plan already ...

Joe!' he called. 'Hey, honey, can you get the pretty girl a Coke?'
'Only if you stop calling me *honey*,' the bartender, a bearded man in his thirties, replied. 'We've had this discussion before, Harrison.'
'Aw, Joe. It's so cute that you think I listen.

All of a sudden I wanted to know how the book ended.

And," I continued, "I'm probably going to be a bitch most of the time. I guarantee I'll find a reason to yell at you almost every day, and don't be surprised if a few drinks get dumped on you from time to time. That's just me, and you're going to have to deal with it. Because I'm not changing for you or anyone else. And I-"
Wesley slid off his bar stool and pressed his lips against mine before the words could get out. My heart pounded as every thought vacated my mind. One of his arms encircled my waist, pulling me as close to him as possible, and his free hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. He kissed me so passionately I thought we would catch on fire.
It wasn't until after he pulled away, both of us in need of some air, that I could think straight again.
"You jerk!" I yelled, pushing him away from me. "Kissing me to make me shut up? God, you're so obnoxious. I could just throw something at you right now."
Wesley hopped onto his bar stool with a big grin, and I suddenly remembered him telling me that I was sexy when I was mad at him. Go figure. "Excuse me, Joe," he called to the bartender. "I think Bianca wants a Cherry Coke."
Despite my best efforts, I smiled. He wasn't perfect, or even remotely close, for that matter, but, hey, neither was I. We were both pretty fucked up. Somehow, though, that made everything more exciting. Yeah, it was sick and twisted, but that's reality, right? Escape is impossible, so why not embrace it?
W

Then maybe I'll hit on this sweaty, oversexed football player. Maybe we'll have meaningful discussions about politics and philosophy while we bump 'n grind. Ugh. Yeah, right.

Plus, no matter how many times I'd brushed my teeth in Casey's bathroom (after half an hour she'd knocked on the door to make sure I was okay), the taste of disgusting, womanizing bastard was still in my mouth. Ugh!

Her choice ruins the lives of the people she cares most about. Because she picked propriety over passion. Head over heart.

Don't keep things bottled up. It's not good for you.

I wanted to make sure you were fine ... and that he was okay, too. You didn't, like, stab the boy, did you? I mean, I totally disapprove of murdering hotties, but if you need help burying the body, you know I'll bring the shovel.

He was the last person I expected to find on the Rushes' front porch. Well, okay. Maybe no the last. That title most likely belonged to the Queen of England or the reanimated corpse of Edgar Allan Poe.

Hey Kid
so proud of you. so is emily. we wish we could be there, but here's a fat check to make up for it but dont go spending it all out on booze. call you soon.
Love, the best big brother ever
and Emily and Marie, too.
I smiled. It was a mark of how much I loved my big brother that I found his lack of punctuation and proper grammar endearing.

I don't want to hear the end of that sentence! It's bad enough that he's flirting with my coworker."
"He's flirting with Cash? Now that's hot."
"What? No! Jenna, not Cash. Geez, Chloe.

I'm perfectly fine with being used. But I would like to know for what I'm being used.
Distraction
That much I gathered. What am I supposed to be distracting you from? There's a chance that if I knew, I could do my job more effectively.

I, on the other hand, am best friends with Wikipedia.'
'You know that site is woefully inaccurate a lot of the time, right? Because anyone can change the information.'
'Yep. I'm the girl changing the information to make it woefully inaccurate.'
'So half the high schoolers around the country have you to thank for their failing grades on research papers.'
'Yes, sir. I'm practically a celebrity. Or I would be if it wasn't anonymous.

You amaze me Lissa Daniels. Most girls would cave as soon as I gave them the puppy-dog look with these amazing eyes."
"Sorry. I like boys. Not dogs. You should've dated a different girl if you wanted someone to bend to your will.

It was almost funny, really. Such a strong reaction to a bunch of shirtless guys.

I'm the wind beneath your wings

You know, my father says those are the four most frightening words a woman can say. He claims that nothing good ever begins with "We need to talk." You're worrying me a little here, Duffy.

She wrote a self-esteem book.

Despite my best efforts, I smiled. He wasn't perfect, or even remotely close, for that matter, but, hey, neither was I. We were both pretty fucked up. Somehow, thought, that made everything more exciting. Yeah, it was sick and twisted, but that's reality, right? Escape is impossible, so why not embrace it?

Look, I've already fucked you twice. You don't have to flatter me. Besides, I love my friends way too much to trade them in for the sake of looking hotter."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. I mean, Casey has been my best friend since, like, forever, and she's the most loyal person I've ever met. And Jessica… well, she has no idea about me and her brother. We weren't friends back then. In fact, I didn't want to know her after Jake and I split, but Casey said it would be good for me, and she was right… as usual. Jessica can be a little ditsy, but she's the sweetest, most innocent person I know. I could never give either of them up just to look good. That'd make me a real dumbass."
"Then they're lucky to have you."
"I just said not to flatter-"
"I'm being honest." Wesley frowned at the mirror. "I have only one friend-one real friend. Harrison is the only guy who will be seen with me, and that's because we aren't trying to attract the same audience, if you know what I mean." A small smile spread across his lips when he turned to face me. "Most people will do anything to avoid being the Duff."
"Well, I guess I'm not most people.

By the time we reached the front door of the party house - a total mansion, like Harrison had said - Nathan was far behind us. Well, he'd promised to stay out of our hair.
"Wow," I heard Bailey gasp as the front door swung open for us, though I wasn't sure if that was her reaction to the freakishly large house or to the drop-dead-gorgeous guy standing in front of us.
"Good evening, ladies," he said, stepping aside to let us enter.
Automatically, I found myself standing up taller and sliding my shoulder blades back for optimum cleavage exposure. It was like a flirting reflex. I just wished I wasn't all sunburned. "Hello to you."
He grinned at me. A cocky, sexy grin. "I don't believe we've met," he said. He glanced at Bailey then. "Any of us. I'm sure I'd remember those pretty faces."
I swear, Bailey was blushing so hard I could feel the heat radiating from her body.
"Oh, you'd remember," I agreed, tossing back my hair and putting a hand on my hip. "I'm Whi - "
"Whitley!"
I jumped and spun around involuntarily. Harrison was standing beside me, looking thoroughly delighted. "Hello again, darling. You look gorgeous - and the lack of flip-flops is making my day. Those slingbacks are perfect!"
I nodded, glancing over my shoulder at the hot guy, but he'd already moved on and was chatting with a group of kids a few feet away. Goddamn it.
"Wesley is just so busy," Harrison said, following my gaze. "You have to give him credit

You know it's true."
"Even if it is," I cried, "what does it matter? You could sleep with anybody, Wesley. So what if I walk away? So what if I have feelings for you? I was just a screw to you! You would never actually commit to me. You could never commit to anyone, but especially not to Duffy. You don't even find me attractive."
"Bullshit," he growled, his eyes on my face as he moved closer to me again.
He was so close. My back was pressed to the wall, and Wesley stood only inches away. It had only been a week, but it felt like ages since we'd been in this kind of proximity. A shiver ran up my spine as I remembered the way his hands felt on me. The way he'd always made me feel wanted, even if he had called me the Duff. Did he? Did he find me attractive despite the nickname? How? Why?
"Then why would you call me that?" I whispered. "Do you know how much it hurts? Every time you call me Duffy, do you know how shitty it makes me feel?"
Wesley looked surprised. "What?"
"Every time you call me that," I said, "you're telling me how little you think of me. How ugly I am. God, how can you possibly find me attractive when you put me down all the time." I hissed the last words through gritted teeth.
"I didn't-" His eyes fell, staring at his shoes for a moment. I could tell he felt guilty. "Bianca, I'm sorry." He looked into my eyes again. "I didn't mean-" His hand reached out to touch me.
"Don't," I snapped, shrugging away from him. I slid to th

"Even" title="Kody Keplinger Quotes: You know it's true."
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Are you guys getting to know each other pretty well? I'm sure it's a little bit awkward at first.'
'Yeah,' I said. 'I'd say we're getting to know each other *really* well. Wouldn't you, Nathan?'
He kicked me under the table and mouthed, *Not funny*.

Shut up, Kelsey, and just give Lissa a chance," Chloe snapped.
Kelsey mocked surprise. "Oh my God, Chloe can speak? I thought her mouth only worked for sucking dicks. It's a miracle.

He had to find time in his schedule to talk to me. Wow, that made me feel important.

It's so screwed up, the standards ... You should like it, but you shouldn't like it too much or talk about how much you like it. You should do it, but you shouldn't do it with too many people or talk about how much you're doing it. It's like there are so many rules, but none of them make sense.

I guess ... I just wanted to talk to someone. I wanted someone to listen to me complain and to sympathize with me for a few minutes. I wanted someone to understand how lost I felt.

Wesley Rush doesn't date, he fucks - everyone, for that matter.

There's more to this amazing body than awe-inspiring abs. I have a pair of ears, too, and they happen to work superbly.

The people who call you names are just trying to make themselves feel better. They've fucked up too. You're not the only one.

It was one of those titles that just fed off of an inner fear every girl must have from time to time. Slut, bitch, prude, tease, ditz. They were all the same. Every girl felt like one of these sexist labels described her at some point.

The word was ours now, and as long as we held on to it, we could control the hurt it inflicted.

Amy and I needed each other. Neither of us really had other close friends. We were the type who were friendly with everyone... I think most people felt sort of left out when they spent time with Amy and me. There was too much history, too many inside jokes, and, yeah, maybe our closeness was a little bit weird to some.

I told you, I'm awesome at everything," he teased, putting the PS3 controller on the floor between us. "That includes video games."
I watched as the character Wesley had been operating moved across the screen, doing some sort of odd victory dance. "Not fair," I muttered. "Your sword was bigger than mine."
"My sword is bigger than everyone's.

Steady there," he whispered, his lips brushing past my ear as he eased up behind me. His hands settled on my hips, fingers toying with the hem of my shirt. "Focus, Duffy. Are you focusing?"
He was trying to distract me. And shit, it was working.
I jerked away from him, trying to thrust the back of my pool stick into his gut. But of course he dodged, and I succeeded only in knocking the cue ball in the opposite direction of what I'd intended, sending it right into one of the corner pockets.
"Scratch," Wesley announced.
"Damn it!" I whirled around to face him. "That shouldn't count!"
"But it does." He took the white ball out of the hole and placed it carefully at the end of the table. "All's fair in love and pool."
"War," I corrected.
"Same thing." He eased the stick back, staring straight ahead, before shooting it forward again. Half a second later, the eight ball sailed into a pocket. The winning shot.
"Asshole," I hissed.
"Don't be a sore loser," he said, leaning his stick against the wall. "What did you really expect? I'm obviously amazing at everything." He grinned. "But, hey, you can't hold it against me, right? We can't help the way God makes us.

I hated Valentine's Day even before I was aware of my Duff status. Honestly, I didn't even understand why it was a holiday. Really, it was just an excuse for girls to whine about being lonely and for guys to worm their way into getting laid. I found it materialistic, indulgent, and, with all of the chocolate, completely unhealthy.

I'd skipped the crush kiddie pool and jumped right into the deep, shark-infested ocean of emotions. And, if you'll forgive the dramatic metaphor, I was a lousy swimmer.

Don't ask where I got this idea, because I couldn't tell you, but I knew precisely where we were going, and I was sure that this might officially make me a slut. But when we reached the door of the unused janitor's closet, I had no feeling of shame… not yet, at least.
I grasped the doorknob and noticed Wesley's eyes narrow with suspicion. I yanked open the door, checked that no one was watching, and gestured for him to go inside. Wesley walked into the tiny closet, and I followed, shutting the door stealthily behind us.
"Something tells me this isn't about The Scarlet Letter," he said, and even in the dark I knew he was grinning.
"Be quiet."
This time he met me halfway. His hands tangled in my hair and mine clawed at his forearms. We kissed violently, and my back slammed against the wall. I heard a mop-or maybe a broom-topple over, but my brain barely registered the sound as one of Wesley's hands moved to my hip, holding me closer to him. He was so much taller than me that I had to tilt my head back almost all the way to meet his kiss. His lips pressed hard against mine, and I let my hands explore his biceps.
The smell of his cologne, rather than the lonely, stale air of the closet, filled my senses.
We wrestled in the darkness for a while before I felt his hand insistently lifting the hem of my T-shirt. With a gasp, I pulled away from the kiss and grabbed his wrist. "No… not now."
"Then when?" Wesley asked in my ear, still pinning me to the

Without warning, Wesley lifted me up onto the pool table. His hands moved to my shoulders, and a second later, I was flat on my back, staring up at him as he smirked. He shifted so that he was on the table too, leaning over me with his face only inches from mine.
"On the pool table?" I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "Seriously?"
"I can't resist," he said. "You know, you're pretty sexy when you're pissed at me, Duffy."
First, I was struck by the irony of that statement. I mean, he used sexy and Duffy-implying I was fat and ugly-in the same sentence. The contrast was almost laughable. Almost.

No rush. This time things were slow and earnest. This time I wasn't looking for an escape. This time it was about him. About me. About honesty and compassion and everything I'd never expected to find in Wesley Rush.

Wesley Rush doesn't chase girls, but I'm chasing you.

I was the Duff. And that was a good thing. Because anyone who didn't feel like the Duff must not have friends. Every girl feels unattractive sometimes. Why had it taken me so long to figure that out? Why had I been stressing over that dumb word for so long when it was so simple? I should be proud to be the Duff. Proud to have great friends who, in their minds, were my Duffs.

" ... we're all fucking Duffs."
(Designated Ugly Fat Friend)
"I'm not the Duff," Wesley said confidently.
"That's because you don't have friends." (Bianca)
"Oh. Right."

You can lie to yourself if you want, but reality is going to catch up with you. I'll be waiting when it does ... whether you like it or not.

I took Russian in high school," Nathan said, climbing out of the pool. He'd decided to swim laps that afternoon instead of going to the gym.
"Did you?" Harrison asked, grinning at him.
"Yeah." Nathan grabbed his towel from the little patio table and began dabbing at his face. "But the only thing I remember is, Mozhno li kopirovat vashi domashnie zodaneeye?"
"Let me guess," I said. "You just asked me where the bathroom is, right?"
"No." He scoffed, flicking his wet towel at me. "I was beyond that basic stuff. I took two years of it. Give me some credit."
"Then what does it mean?" I asked.
"It means, 'Can I copy your homework?

If I tell Dad he has a problem, he'll think I hate him. How can I hurt him more? He just lost everything."
Wesley shook his head. "Not everything. He didn't lose you," he said. "At least not yet. If you don't talk to him, he'll just end up driving you away, and then he will be in far worse pain.

Where are you going?" Wesley asked in a semi-sleepy voice.
"Home." I pulled on my jeans. "I've gotta take a shower and get ready for school."
He pushed himself up on one elbow to look at me. His hair was a mess, brown curls falling into his eyes and sticking up in the back. "You can shower here," he offered. "I might even join you if you're lucky.

Go take out the trash, Potty Mouth.'
She laughed and headed into the kitchen. 'Pissed!' she shouted as she walked through the dining room. 'Shit! Damn!

This whole strike has turned into a way to fuck with people, Lissa," he snapped. "It was one thing when you were just boycotting sex, but now...Look at you. You're using sex to get what you want-playing with my feelings for your own benefit. That's why you came over, right? I'm not stupid. You're the one who's cruel, Lissa. Not me.

Wesley was playing Soulcalibur IV. And because I'm a glutton for punishment, I'd challenged him.
My God, I had to find something I could beat him at!
And you know, something about beating the shit out of an animated character really made me feel better. Before I knew it, I wasn't even worried about Mom or Dad. Things would be okay. They had to be. I just had to be patient and let things happen. And in the meantime, I had to kick Wesley's ass… or try, at least.

Bianca, can I ask you something?" "No," I said quickly. "I am not giving you a blow job. No fucking way. Just the thought of it is disgusting and degrading and ... No. Never." "While that's a little disappointing," Wesley said, "it's not what I was planning to ask you."
Keplinger, Kody (2010-09-07). The DUFF: (Designated Ugly Fat Friend) (p. 166). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.

I want more. I want everything. I want you."
"Nathan ... "
"I'm not settling for less, Whitley," he said. "And neither should you.

I shook my head. "Don't bother making excuses," I said. "Don't waste your time because, the fact is, I am the Duff. But so is everyone else in the world. We're all fucking Duffs."
"I'm not the Duff," Wesley said confidently.
"That's because you don't have friends."
"Oh. Right.

Just when I think you might have a soul, you say shit like that.

And there was no way I could talk about it with Dad. Our version of "the talk" had been him clearing his throat awkwardly for about ten minutes straight as he attempted to explain to me the importance of condoms. I was fourteen, and, needless to say, it was an experience I never wanted to relive.

I don't think normal exists.

I am the Duff. But so is everyone else in the world. We're all fucking Duffs.

The more my world spun, the more appealing he became. Don't get me wrong, I still hated him with a passion. His arrogance made me want to scream, but his ability to free me - if only temporarily - from my problems left me high. He was my drug.

Oh God," I muttered as Toby and I made a frantic effort to untangle ourselves. He scrambled off my bed and grabbed his shirt off the floor, his face glowing scarlet. I reached down and picked up my T-shirt. "Wesley, how did you get in here?" I demanded.
"The door was unlocked," he said. "You didn't answer when I knocked… Now I can see why." His dark gray eyes were big with what I could only guess was shock, dissolving quickly into disgust, and they stared directly at Toby.
"But what are you doing here?" I asked, feeling a sudden surge of anger rush through my veins. I yanked my T-shirt over my head and stood up.
"You weren't answering your phone," Wesley muttered. "I was worried, but it looks like you're just fine." He glared at Toby for a moment before looking back at me. "My mistake.

Sometimes people surprise you, if you let them.

Graduation night was my last party,' he said. 'Or at least my last drink. After that night, I decided I was done with all of it.'
'Why? What changed?'
A sly grin crept across Nathan's face. 'I got really, really wasted graduation night, and when I woke up, some sassy, sexy vixen had stolen my virginity.

First of all," I began, "I don't love you. I love my family and maybe even Casey and Jessica, but romantic love takes years upon years to develop. So I don't love you. But I will admit, I've thought a lot about you lately and I definitely have feelings for you ... feelings other than hatred for the most part. And maybe it's possible - in the future - that I ... could love you." I hesitated, a little scared of the words that'd just left my mouth. "But I still want to kill you most of the time.

I think about you much more than any self-respecting man would like to admit, and I'm insanely jealous of Tucker - something I never thought I'd say. Moving on after you is impossible. No other girl can keep me on my toes the way you can. No one else makes me WANT to embarrass myself by writing sappy letters like this one.
Only you.

Bumblebee," he said as the kitchen went dark. "I want you to thank your friend next time you see him."
"My friend?"
"Yeah. The boy who was with you last night. What's his name?"
"Wesley," I muttered.
"Right," Dad said. "Well, I deserved it. He was brave to do what he did. I don't know what's going on between you two, but I'm glad you have a friend who's willing to stand up for you. So please tell him I said thanks.

I mean, there is a reason its initials are VD. I bet you more people contract syphilis on Valentine's Day than on any other day of the year. What a cause for celebration.

Wow," Wesley said. We were lying in his bed only a few minutes after we'd finished, with a foot or more space between our bodies. "I definitely wasn't expecting that."
God, he ruined everything when he talked. Annoyed, and still wading through the emotional repercussions, I sneered. "What? Ashamed that you screwed the Duff?"
"No." I was surprised by how serious he sounded. "I'm never ashamed of anyone I sleep with. Sex is a natural chemical reaction. It always happens for a reason. Who am I to dictate who experiences the joy of sharing my bed?" He didn't see me roll my eyes as he continued. "No, I just meant that I'm shocked. I was honestly starting to believe that you hated me."
"I do hate you," I assured him, kicking off the covers and moving to pick up my clothes.
"You must not hate me too much," Wesley said, rolling onto his elbow and watching me dress. "You did pretty much throw yourself at me. Generally, hatred doesn't inspire that kind of passion."
I pulled on my T-shirt. "Believe me, Wesley, I definitely hate you. I was just using you. You use people all the time, so I'm sure you understand." I buttoned my jeans and grabbed my alligator clip from the nightstand. "This was fun, but if you ever tell anyone, I swear I'll castrate you.

No matter where you go or what you do to distract yourself, reality catches up with you eventually.

Why did that jackass have to sit next to me?