Jesus Christ, will you quit dictating this conversation to Hannah?' I grumble. 'Bros before hos, dude.''Call my girlfriend a ho one more time and you won't have a bro.

Baby, I could watch you watching paint dry, and I still wouldn’t be bored.” Garrett Graham, my own personal sweet-talker.

Of course I’m up,” I grumble, rubbing my eyes. “How am I supposed to sleep when you two fucktards are standing at the foot of my bed talking about angels blowing their loads?” Garrett snickers. “Like I’m the first one to ever wonder about that.

The faculty can’t just hand out students’ schedules to anyone who asks for them, right? That’s a violation of privacy. I grit my teeth and decide that the moment I pass the bar, my first order of legal business will be suing this stupid college.