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280 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 19, 2018
“Is this our Titanic moment?”


“Ender is just my side bitch,” she slurred, sifting her fingers through my hair like I was her plaything. “I’ve been so horny lately and Ender’s been satisfying me with his big dick.”









“I can be your safe person.”
Straightening herself, she blinked at me. “Safe person.” That sounds a lot like a ‘safe word’, which brings to mind stuff like bondage, domination, sadism, and masochism.”
“BDSM”? I coughed loudly. “No, nothing like that.” … “What I mean is, if you’re ever unsure about any social cues, you can always check with me.”
“So you’re going to be my coach?” Her eyes grew wide, though a smile played behind them. “My social coach?”
… “I guess you can call it that.”
“There’s not much to tell.” I gave her a modest shrug of the shoulders. “We’re just best friends with benefits.”
… “And you’re okay with that?” Danni looked incredulous. “Like /totally okay with being friends with benefits?”
“Correct.” I dabbed my mouth with a napkin. “Why wouldn’t I be? He’s my best friend and he keeps me sexually satisfied. We make passionate, delectable sex.”
“But why is a thigh gap even a desirable quality? If I had a thigh gap, my phone could literally slip through the space between my thighs and splash into the toilet if I dropped it.” I frowned. “And I like being on my phone when I’m sitting on the toilet.”
“We need … people who can see things from a different perspective. People who have a gift for finding and analysing information with their obsessive acquisition of hard facts, their insistence on logic, their ability to see things the way most of us aren’t able to.”
"If you ever disrespect her again, I will shove two hundred thermometer sticks up your ass and no amount of coconut oil will get ’em out. You hear me?”
Midway through the movie, it was Adelaide—not me—who was increasingly annoyed.
“I don’t understand!” she hissed. “If they’re so spooked, why don’t they just leave the house and stay at a damn hotel?”
As the movie progressed, she got even more upset.
“NOOOOOoooooo!” she screamed. “Don’t run through that door!” Barely two seconds later, she was slapping her forehead. “That bitch did not just run through that door!”
Two minutes later…
“AW HELLLL NAW! DON’T GO BACK UPSTAIRS! RUN AWAY! RUN THE FUCK AWAY!”
All of a sudden, a guy popped out of the bushes, wrapped only in an orange sheet.
“My metamorphosis is complete!” he yelled to no one in particular. “I am a beautiful butterfly!” Then he tossed the sheet to the ground, revealing the fact that he was completely naked underneath and ran off into the pink sunset.
As we picked our way through the throngs of people, we passed by two guys who were having a minor tussle over a giant burrito.
"I wanted to know what this Greek tradition was all about. And now I get it!” I said luminously. “It’s all a cover for getting wasted and laid with the help of a bunch of elite friends who you’ll contact years later for jobs and legal advice.”
"Pizza… you are the only love triangle I ever want.”
“Ender…”
“I’m gonna eat the fuck out of your pussy,” he whispered hoarsely.
God. That sounds terribly frightful.
"Adelaide.” I framed her face in my hands and kissed the frown on her lips. “I want to take you out on more dates.”
“You do?”
“I do.” I kissed her again. She tasted of seawater and adventure.
“How many?”
“Many, many, many more.” I held her gaze steadily. “I will never want to stop dating you.”
"And sometimes the world can be an amazing place when you’re slightly strange.”
"She had eyes that saw the best in others and a heart that forgave the worst."
But those words kept replaying in my mind: What the hell is wrong with you? “I don’t know,” I said in a pathetically weak voice. “A lot of things.”
“Ender,” I said in a teasing voice. “Is this why you’re always such a boiled cabbage? Because you have daddy issues?” A bubble of laughter escaped me. “I’m sorry,” I said contritely. “It’s just that all along I’d assumed you were grumpy because you had Crohn’s disease or some sort of gastroenterological disorder.”
He frowned. “Why the fuck would you think I had a gastro disorder?”
“I just thought you were suffering from something that kept you constipated at all times… you know, because you had that perma-scowl on your face.” I smiled. “Like you do now.”
"When you look at a painting, you probably see the whole picture. You see the finished product. When I look at a painting, I see the stages from start to finish. And I see every detail... the lines and forms, the lights and shadows, the tiny brush strokes, the different layers. I see the contrast of colors, the saturation, and I see the work invested in it and I want to know more. I want to ask the artist how she got the concept for the painting. I want to know more about the artist herself so I can understand what she's trying to convey with each brush stroke. I want to know the mindset she was in when she was working on her art piece. Above all, I want to know the story behind the painting."
"Do you know that you've never asked me what was wrong with me? Never. Not when we were kids. Not now. Not ever. Whenever something was bothering me, you always said, 'What's going on with you?'"

“Adelaide,” I’d said through gritted teeth. “I can already tell you’re twenty types of trouble.”
“Ender,” she’d replied sweetly. “I can already tell we’re gonna be bosom buddies.”
“Since you don’t wear panties, yeah… I saw everything. And to be honest, I fully expected a full bush, not a bald eagle.”
“Quit acting like you’ve never seen a dick before.”“I haven’t,”she said, biting her lips. “Your penis…”Wonder filled her voice. “It’s such a perfect little arrangement of atoms.”

