Do you feel like he ignores you?" "No. I feel like he doesn't see me.

I choose you over everyone.

Underneath this veneer of slightly crazy and mildly socially retarded, I'm a complete disaster.

Your trash can is full of energy bar wrappers." "You were looking through my trash?

He wound the scarf around his fingers until her hand was hanging in the space between them. Then he slid the silk and his fingers into her open palm. And Eleanor disintegrated.

Holding Eleanor’s hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive. As soon as he touched her, he wondered how he’d gone this long without doing it. He rubbed his thumb through her palm and up her fingers, and was aware of her every breath.

I'm the Cool One," she told herself. "Somebody give me some tequila because I'll totally drink it. And there's no way you're going to find me later having a panic attack in your parents' bathroom. Who wants to French-kiss?