I love you.”I stared stupidly at him. Was he joking again, reciting another line from my story? I didn’t remember writing this.He leaned in and kissed me. I didn’t respond for a few seconds. My mind lagged behind what my body was feeling.“Say it,” he whispered against my lips. “I know this is hard for you. Tell me.”“I love you.” Hearing my own words, I gasped at the rush of emotion.He put his hands on either side of my jaw and took my mouth with his.

Why are you pretending to write, when I already know you're just doing that to intimidate me?

There’s a country song about this. Deana Carter sings about it. Lady Antebellum sings about it. Gosh, not just country artists. Katy Perry. Everybody has a song about it because everybody’s been through it. You find that person at eighteen and you lose yourself. And the tragedy is, it’s the person who’s completely opposed to everything you’ve ever wanted. You bond with that person, and that person breaks your heart. I’m that tragedy, and you’re mine.

[...] he had his hand on your -" He put his hand at waist level behind me, without touching me."He had his hand on my ass?""No," they said."Behind your back," Rashad said. "Like you're dating or something." He put his hand behind Skip's back. Skip hit him.

Or that I couldn't stand to watch anything bad happen to you, because it was like it was happening to me too. Is that love?

An hour later, we were full of pizza and I love him a little more.

He managed to find his way into my heart again and sabotage it from the inside.