Amal’s Reviews > Not Here to Be Liked > Status Update

“And even though there’s so much I don’t know—so much that I can’t know—I’ve also never felt more sure of myself.”

“There’s only about forty minutes left at this point,” I say. “I think he’s earned at least that much of a reprieve.”
“Very well,” Dr. Guinn says. “Reprieve granted.”

The patience of this man I kinda feel bad

“Hello, Sentinels. This is Len DiMartile.”
“And this is Serena Hwangbo.”
“Please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.”

“Come on, Eliza.You know it’s not always that easy. Especially with you. How would you have reacted if I’d told you?”
“I would’ve never talked to you again.”
“Is that what you want? For us to have never been friends?”
“Yes.”
“You really mean that?” His voice cracks on the last syllable, and my chest pinches. But I don’t back down.
“I mean everything I say. Not like you.”

OH

“What’s wrong, Len?”
He looks away. “I posted the manifesto.”

OH MY GOD WHICH MEANS HE WROTE THAT CONCLUSION TOO

“Okay, then tell me the real reason. The truth.”
Len lies back down when I say this, gazing up at the ceiling instead of me. And even though I’ve been trying to needle him, it strikes me that maybe these things can be confusing for him, too.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you,”
“It’s okay,” I joke gently. “I already know that you like me.”

“him. “Especially because it’s still unclear whether you’re going to resign or not.”
“I’ll resign,” he says.
His directness disarms me. “Really?”
“Sure. If that’s what you want, I’ll tell Mr. Powell tomorrow.”
“Are you just agreeing because you want to keep hooking up?”
“So that is on the table?”

Bro rly wants that cookie

“And then?”
“He told me that he’d let us work it out ourselves.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
We’re both silent for a minute. Then Len pulls his keys out of his pants pocket, tosses them in the air, and catches them with one hand. “So . . . what do you think?” he says, giving me side-eye. “Should we try to work it out?”

“How did Guinn react to the fact that you were low-key threatening legal action on my behalf?”
“He asked whether my mother customarily sends me to represent her clients.”
“Oh my God.” I’m dying. “He called you out.”
“A little bit.”

“shake my head in disbelief. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. I could have survived detention.” Something bitter occurs to me. “I didn’t need you to rescue me.”
“Oh, I know.” The corner of his mouth goes up. “But isn’t it nice to have the patriarchy conspire to benefit you for once?”
I mean, I would prefer if there were no patriarchy at all. But also, he’s not wrong.”