“I shook my head. "Don’t bother making excuses," I said. "Don’t waste your time because, the fact is, I am the Duff. But so is everyone else in the world. We’re all fucking Duffs." "I’m not the Duff," Wesley said confidently. "That’s because you don’t have friends." "Oh. Right.”

“"...we’re all fucking Duffs.” (Designated Ugly Fat Friend)“I’m not the Duff,” Wesley said confidently.“That’s because you don’t have friends.” (Bianca)“Oh. Right.””

“I was the Duff. And that was a good thing. Because anyone who didn't feel like the Duff must not have friends. Every girl feels unattractive sometimes. Why had it taken me so long to figure that out? Why had I been stressing over that dumb word for so long when it was so simple? I should be proud to be the Duff. Proud to have great friends who, in their minds, were my Duffs.”

“I changed my mind. I don’t want to be an inveshtigative journalist anymore. I want to be a professional rum drinker.” “There are people who do that,” Duff said. He’d barely sipped his rum. “Really? What do you call them?” “Alcoholics.”

“I shook my head at him. “Unbelievable. You have no claim here,” I said, gesturing to myself. “You have no right to be upset that I’m dating Jack. You had your chance.”“I guess I’m not as okay with it as I thought I was. I don’t like seeing him with you,” he said, and I wasn’t sure if it was because Jack was a known player or if Jack was suddenly playing with me.”

“Yeah, Jame. I don’t have a woman. I am sure as fuck not taking a guy. You can be my date.” Matt answered. “Oh, because I’m not a woman, or a guy.”