That earns him a smack with my book bag. "Ow." He clutches his arm. "What do you have in there? Books?" A grin snakes across his face. "I like my women feisty." He adds, "I like my broken.

What did she see in me? What does she see that I don't?

She's still doing it, pushing me into situations I can't handle, making me cope. She knows I can't cope.

Don't choose me. I'm not worth your time.

I hated him. I hated them all. They made me hate myself even more than I already did.

Sometimes I felt as if there were no tomorrows, that everything, my whole life, was crammed into one long day. A continuous stretch of meaningless time. Sometimes I even wished there was no tomorrow, if this was all I had to look forward to.

I know it's hard on her. If I don't tell her she'll kill me." He pauses. "That was supposed to be funny.