“Tucker strokes my hair. There's something so tender about the gesture. It might as well have been him whispering I love you.”

“You do know we're officially the talk of the town," I say to Tucker. He might as well have taken a marker to my forehead and written PROPERTY OF TUCKER in big black letters.His eyebrows lift. "Do you mind?"I reach for his hand and lace his fingers with mine. "Nope."I'm with Tucker. In spite of my failed purpose and everything, it looks like I'm actually going to get to keep him. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.”

“But Tucker is my choice. I love him. That isn't going to go away.”

“Well he should get over himself. He tried to get me burned at the stake in Brit History yesterday. Here I am minding my own business like a good little girl, and out of the blue Tucker raises his hand and accuses me of being a witch" "sounds like something Tucker would do" admits wendy."Everybody had to vote on it. I barely escaped with my nuns life. Obviously I'll have to return the favour.”

“It doesn't taste anything like the drink I had at the party with Tucker. And now, almost two years later, I realize why. Tucker never put any rum in my rum and Coke. That little stink. That overly protective, impossible, infuriating, and utterly sweet little stink.In that moment I miss him so much my stomach hurts.”

“Your hair smells like wind, did you know that?" Yep, me and Tucker, smelling each other.”

“Tucker: Why would you tell me now if it's against the rules?Clara: Because I love you.”