“That just proves there's something going on with you and Mr. Jackass.”

“Why did that jackass have to sit next to me?”

“You're a disgusting, shallow, womanizing jackass, and I hope that soda stains your preppy little shirt." Just before I marched away, i looked over my shoulder and added, "And my name isn't Duffy. it's Bianca. we've been in the same homeroom since middle school, you selfabsorbed son of a bitch.”

“You can't control everything. Sometimes you just need to relax and have faith that things will work out. Let go a little and just let life happen.”

“No matter where you go or what you do to distract yourself, reality catches up with you eventually.”

“You can lie to yourself if you want, but reality is going to catch up with you. I’ll be waiting when it does… whether you like it or not.”

“So when you’re nervous, you count?” “Not just when I’m nervous,” I said. “It’s… all the time. I count the seconds during pauses in conversations. I count the minutes when I’m waiting on something. Sometimes, when I’m kind of panicked or anxious, I count my heartbeats. Something about counting makes me feel like… like I have the power. Like knowing how much time has passed or how many steps I’ve taken from one place to another will somehow keep me in control of the situation.”