“I couldn't exactly blame Jane Austen for being a romantic. What the hell else was there to do back then for fun?”

“Designer clothes, bubblegum pop music, celebrity heartthrobs - I couldn't give a fat rat's hairy ass. Just give me my hotdog and Jane Austen, and I'm good.”

“You're not gay, are you?What?!I mean you've never had a boyfriend. And you're not exactly...girly.I'm not gay. I'm just unpopular.”

“So he likes being mean to you," she said. "And you like that he likes being mean to you.""And I like being mean to him, too, don't forget.""Of course not. Pleasure from meaness. There's a name for it: sadomasochism.""Thanks a lot." I said. "That's just what I need. A mental picture of Todd Harding laced up in a black leather bodysuit with a whip in one hand and his wang in the other.”

“I jumped up and "casually" strolled a bit closer. I blinked my eyes in the sun. It couldn't be, could it? But it was.Gabe...."You know, if you're going to stalk someone, you should be less obvious."I wheeled around. It was Todd. He'd snuck up on me.He said, "For starters, try not to standing in the middle of a field, gawking at your prey."I kicked at a dusty clump of grass. "Gawking? I... I'm... not gawking. I was just watching your girlfired putting the moves on someone else. Jealous?""Oh Gabe Webber?" Todd laughed. "Uh...no."I shielded my eyes from the sun. "Why? What's wrong with Gabe Webber?""Nothing. As in, there's nothing there. He has the personality of dry toast."How dare he insult my Gabe? "Oh yes. I forgot. You prefer the company of assholes and jerks. As they say, 'Birds of a feather...'""That must be why you hang around.”

“Because from what I've seen of marriages and relationships, there aren't any rules. You deal with what comes, like anything else in life. There's no template. No freaking outline. And that's what makes relationships interesting, right? The element of surprise.”

“He said, “So . . . do you like music?” It was a pretty stupid question. I mean, who doesn’t like music? Okay, maybe some puritanical zealot out in Hicksville. But really. It was kind of like asking, “Do you like food?” “Isn’t oxygen great?” “Have you got skin? I do.” I knew what he meant, though.”