Senior year is supposed to be a blast-easy and fun. So far it's been anything but.

Don’t try and make me feel better, Alex. I hate you.” “I hate you, too.

She ignores me, so I cup my hands over my mouth and do something I haven’t done in years— barnyard sounds.

I keep my expectations low, so nobody disappoints me." "Yeah, well, I have high expectations." I look toward Miranda. "I guess my friends do, too." "Expectations make people miserable, so whatever yours are, lower them. You'll definitely be happier.

You're stressing too much about what might be. Do something to take your mind off thinking about what might never happen.

That’s not the only reason I’m stayin’, chica. I can’t leave you any more than I could walk out that door right now while my leg is busted up. I was just thinkin’ . . . should we tell your parents now or later?” “Tell them what?” I ask, eyes wide. He kisses me softly, then says proudly, “That we’re in a serious, monogamous, committed relationship.” “We are?” “Sí. And when I get out of here, I’m gonna fix the door to your car.

That wouldn't fit my right testicle