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780 books
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3,796 voters
“Reputation is an idle and most false imposition, oft got without merit and lost without deserving. You have lost no reputation at all unless you repute yourself such a loser.”
― Othello
― Othello
“It is better to remain silent at the risk of being thought a fool, than to talk and remove all doubt of it.”
― Mrs. Goose, Her Book
― Mrs. Goose, Her Book
“We don't say nothing more. What else is there to say? Everything and nothing. You can't say everything, so you don't say nothing.”
― The Knife of Never Letting Go
― The Knife of Never Letting Go
“My Best Friend is a person who will give me a book I have not read.”
―
―
“The first thing I saw was blue. Blue sweater, blue eyes. Blue. Beautifully blue. Then I saw red as I recognized who belonged to the blue.
“Fucking Wallbanger,” I hissed, frozen on the spot.
His grin slid off as well as he played place-the-face for a moment.
“Fucking Pink Nightie Girl,” he finally concluded. He grimaced.
We stared, seething as the air literally turned electric between us, snapping and crackling.
The four behind us had fallen silent, listening to this little interchange. Then they caught up.
“That’s Wallbanger?” Sophia screeched.
“Wait a minute, that’s Pink Nightie Girl?” Neil laughed, and Mimi and Ryan snorted.
My face flamed bright red as I processed this information, and Simon’s sneer became that damnable smirk I’d seen that night in the hallway—when I’d banged on his door and made him quit giving it to the Giggler and yelled at him. When I’d been wearing…
“Pink Nightie Girl. Pink Nightie Girl!” I choked out, beyond pissed. Beyond angry. Well into Furious Town. I stared at him, pouring all of my tension into that one look. All of the sleepless nights and lost Os and cold showers and banana thrusting and merciless wet dreams went into that one look.
I wanted to level him with my eyes, make him beg for mercy. But no…Not Simon, Director of the International House Of Orgasms.
He
Was
Still
Smirking.”
― Wallbanger
“Fucking Wallbanger,” I hissed, frozen on the spot.
His grin slid off as well as he played place-the-face for a moment.
“Fucking Pink Nightie Girl,” he finally concluded. He grimaced.
We stared, seething as the air literally turned electric between us, snapping and crackling.
The four behind us had fallen silent, listening to this little interchange. Then they caught up.
“That’s Wallbanger?” Sophia screeched.
“Wait a minute, that’s Pink Nightie Girl?” Neil laughed, and Mimi and Ryan snorted.
My face flamed bright red as I processed this information, and Simon’s sneer became that damnable smirk I’d seen that night in the hallway—when I’d banged on his door and made him quit giving it to the Giggler and yelled at him. When I’d been wearing…
“Pink Nightie Girl. Pink Nightie Girl!” I choked out, beyond pissed. Beyond angry. Well into Furious Town. I stared at him, pouring all of my tension into that one look. All of the sleepless nights and lost Os and cold showers and banana thrusting and merciless wet dreams went into that one look.
I wanted to level him with my eyes, make him beg for mercy. But no…Not Simon, Director of the International House Of Orgasms.
He
Was
Still
Smirking.”
― Wallbanger
Reenzez’s 2025 Year in Books
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