Deborah Van der plas

“I'll be gentle," Noah added. My breath caught in my throat as he looked at me from beneath those lashes, ruining me.
"You're evil."
"And you're mine.”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer

“Asscrown," I muttered under my breath as I headed to my next class. I wasn't proud of swearing at a complete stranger, no. but he started it.

Noah matched my pace. "Don't you mean 'assclown'?" He looked amused.

"No," I said, louder this time. "I mean asscrown. The crown on top of the asshat that covers the asshole of the assclown. The very zenith in the hierarchy of asses," I said, as though I was reading from a dictionary of modern profanity.

"I guess you nailed me then.”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer

“Ladies and gentlemen, Jamal Feldstein-Roth.”
I blinked. “Wait, Jamal?”
“Suck it,” he said with a grin. “My parents are liberal Jews from Long Island, okay? They wanted me to have a connection to my heritage.” Jamie made air quotes with his fingers.
“I’m not judging—my middle name is Amitra. I’m just surprised.”
“Amitra,” Noah amused. “Mystery solved.”
“What is that?” Jamie asked me.
“Sanskrit? Hindi?” I shrugged.
“Randomly?”
I shook my head. “My mom’s Indian.”
“What does that mean?” Jamie asked me.
“What does Jamal mean?” I asked him.
“Point taken.”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Evolution of Mara Dyer

“If a girl thinks she isn't beautiful, I'm here to prove her wrong.”
― Kendall Schmidt