I've got a nine iron that says otherwise.

In this room I have picked which gun was unloaded out of ten options. And then they pulled the trigger on me. I have picked stocks that went on to skyrocket. I have picked which pencil I would shove into Ms. Robertson’s ear until she kicked me out for thinking about it.

Lish tried to swear--which is always funny, because the computer won't translate it. It went something like this: "Bleep stupid bleep bleep faeries and their bleep bleep bleep obsessions. He had better stop bleep bleep bleep the bleep bleep rules or I will bleep bleep bleep the little bleeeeeeeeeeep.

Maybe I'm weird, but watching Lend drive was sexy.

Boys suck. Even when they have perfect blue eyes and ridiculously cool trucks. Maybe especially then.

Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Seriously, did I look like some sort of pyscho assassin? Maybe it was the pink sneakers. Or the heart earrings?

He's just a little unbalanced and lonely." He put his arms around my waist, frowning. "Can't he be lonely and unbalanced around someone else's girlfriend?" "I'll suggest it.