I had this whole plan when I graduated high school: I was going to go to college, date a few guys, and then meet THE guy at the end of my freshman year, maybe at the beginning of my sophomore year. We'd be engaged by graduation and married the next year. And then, after some traveling, we'd start our family. Four kids, three years apart. I wanted to be done by the time I was 35.

Maybe we should go on lots of double dates,” Cath said, “and then we can get married on the same day in a double ceremony, in matching dresses, and the four of us will light the unity candle all at the same time.” “Pfft,” Levi said, “I’m picking out my own dress.

You're not the ugly one. Levi Grinned. You're just the Clark Kent... ... Will you warn me when you take off your glasses?

Are you on drugs?" "No." "Maybe you should be.

But you're so helpless sometimes. It's like watching a kitten with its head trapped in a Kleenex box.

It was like their lives were overlapping lines, like they had their own gravity. Usually, that serendipity thing felt like the nicest thing the universe had ever done for her.

That girl had the subtlety of a Spencer’s Gifts shop.