“Fuckin’ A. Bedtime.”

“I can't win with you. I can't win with you! You say you're done...I'm fucking miserable over here! I had to break my phone into a million pieces to keep from calling you every minute of the damn day--I've had to play it off like everything is just fine at school so you can be happy...and you're fucking mad at me? You broke my fuckin' heart!”

“He grabbed my arm. "Wait. You're mad?" I yanked my coat from his grip. "You know...I don't even know why I'm surprised." His eyebrows pulled in. "I can't win with you. I can't win with you! You say you're done...I'm fucking miserable over here! I had to break my phone into a million pieces to keep from calling you every minute of the damn day-I've had to play it off like everything is just fine at school so you can be happy...and you're fucking mad at me? You broke my fuckin' heart!" His last words echoed into the night.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s hard not to notice when fifty drunks are chanting your name.”

“I don’t get hit that often. If they swing, I move. It’s not that hard”

“When I throw a punch they take it and try to reciprocate. That’s not gonna win a fight.”

“I’m so glad you’re here, Abby. I feel like I just walked into a Molly Ringwald movie.”“Glad I could help,” I grumbled.”