Shaloo

“Four.
That’s the number of people who saw me hiding around the corner from my own apartment in just a skirt and a bra. Eleven.
That’s the number of ant bites I got on my shoeless feet.
Twenty-seven.
That’s the number of times I was tempted to do myself physical harm because I am an IDIOT.
One.
That’s the number of times I tried not to cry, but failed.”
― Cora Carmack, Losing It

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” I asked, eyeing him standing carefully outside my door. “Is this the part where you tell me you’re a vampire?” He chuckled. “No, I promise the paleness is only because I’m British.”
― Cora Carmack, Losing It

“It wasn’t until I’d walked halfway across the parking lot that I realized: 1. I wasn’t wearing shoes.
A. Or a shirt.
2. I didn’t bring my keys                      
A. Or anything really.
3. I’d just left a complete stranger in my apartment.                      
A. Naked.

Whoever said one-night stands were supposed to be simple with no strings attached had clearly never met the disaster that was me.”
― Cora Carmack, Losing It

“Sex.
I was going to have sex.
With a boy.
A hot boy.
A hot BRITISH boy.
Or maybe I was going to throw up.
What if I threw up on the hot British boy?
What if I threw up on the hot British boy DURING SEX?”
― Cora Carmack, Losing It