Remember that day I made you the elevator? he suddenly asks.I give him a faint smile. How could I forget?That was the day I had my first kiss.My smile fades.I’m better now, He sets the apple beside me...
Quiero besarlo por el resto de la noche, por el resto de nuestras vidas. El indicado. Su sabor es salado como la niebla del mar. Pero también es dulce, como...—Cerezas —dice.
North whipped around to stare at her. For a moment, his expression was ureadable. And then... he smiled. It was warm-unexpectedly warm-and it made Marigold feel the teensiest bit calmer.
Nice strawberries.Shut up.No, I mean it. Cute.
My face is round, and my cheeks are pinchable, and my ears stick out farther than I'd like.
Mis botas de combate con plataformas abren el camino. Y mantengo mi cabeza en alto hacia mi gran entrada, de la mano del chico que me dio la luna y las estrellas.
Mientras más sabes quién eres, y lo que quieres, menos dejas que las cosas te molesten.
Marigold wondered if that were true. It was nice to think that she might have a superpower, even a dumb one, hidden inside of her. What might it be?
Love can be so sttange and sad. It can be hard to understand why we run toward certain people and away from others at different times in our lives. Why we search so hard for that thing we are looking...
Josh: St. Clair and Anna are one of those couples that seem like they were made for each other. Instant friendship, instant chemistry. He was obsessed with her from the moment they met. She was the on...
It’s not right. It hasn’t been right, not since I met you.
It’s Sunday night, he continues. You aren’t at Pizza Pellino.No, I’m at the Treehouse with Hattie. And then I’m so dizzy my vision goes black. How...how did you know that I’m not there?Because I’m her...
It was around the time of the divorce that all traces of decency vanished, and his dream of being the next great Southern writer was replaced by his desire to be the next writer. So he started writin...
Is there a chance if your Lola ? Only if the other person is Cricket
I've spent many dark nights trying to forget about Cricket. It doesn't feel fair that he could have forgotten about me.
I wasn't being a git. I wasn't even being a twat, or a wanker, or any of your other bleeding Briticisms
I moan with pleasure.Did you just have a foodgasm? he asks, wiping ricotta from his lips.Where have you been all my life? I ask the beautiful panini.
How'd you get this number?Well, you see, there's this book. It has white pages. And it has all these phone numbers listed inside it. It's also online.
History books are filled with lies. Whoever wins the war tells the story.
He shakes his head. His dark messy hair has a few curls in it today.It's quite breathtaking,really.If there were an Olympics competition in hair, St. Clair would totally win,hands down. Ten-point-oh.G...