"Cheerleading? That totally just blew your little work outfit out of the water. I pressed my lips together to keep from giggling. It was only ninth and tenth grade. I did it because my mom wanted me to. I dropped out, it wasn’t for me. And yet my fantasy lives."
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"Hey, taking care of family is just as important if not more than taking care of yourself. You’re doing a good thing, staying with your dad while he needs you."
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"It’s my job as best friend to make sure he’s not a serial killer. Or an English major, not sure which one’s worse."
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"If you can’t get your freak on to make little Keepers, then how are there so many of you?"
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"I’ll wait for you however long you need. It’s okay. I understand."
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"That’s something in you, something in your guts and soul, imprinted on you, something written on your heart from that first touch that doesn’t go away."
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"The universe doesn’t hand out blank cards to play. You will know your hand soon enough."
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"I’m not a baker so I’m not about to sugar coat it for you."
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"Jealousy is when you want something that you can’t have, something that doesn’t belong to you. Being protective is defending what’s yours.” He leaned in, his hand closing around my jaw as his nose skimmed up to mine. “And you better believe that I’ll be protecting what’s mine."
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"Yes? State your business here,” a pompous British voice answered. “It’s me, Randolph. Cut the British crap.” “Oh. It’s you, Caleb,” a now normal American voice said. “I was trying it out. No good?"