“I’m sorry, what did you say? I’m not fluent in stupid drunk slut”
“Oh God, he thought. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard you say to come in.”“I did.”“But you’re only wearing a towel.”“What is it with you guys and towels? It’s not like I’m naked.”
“I’m sorry.” Once again, those were the words. And now, anytime someone says I’m sorry, I’m going to think of her.”
“My hush is lush. It’s drunk on its own greenness, just as I’m drunk on my blue silence. What would you say if I asked you to turquoise?”
“Love is to beer as I am to drunk. And you say I’m not romantic. Shoot, I’m so romantic I could just puke.”
“Do you want the whole school to think I’m one of your sluts?” My sluts? They weren’t mine. Hence them being sluts.”