“Does he know that I called him three times and hung up right after we broke up? (I totally *67'd my number to block it, but with technology these days, you never know when someone's going to invent a way to get around that. Nothing's private anymore, you know?)”

“Everyone know that you should never wreck your life for a boy, and especially not one that you meet while you're in high school. Seriously, everyone knows it. You never hear someone say, "Oh, wow, you're seventeen and you really like him? That's great, you should do whatever it takes to get him, even if it means wrecking your whole like.”

“One large soy latte." [...]"You mean a Venti," [...]"What?" I ask"A Venti," he says. " that's what we call larger here. You know that Hannah.""Well, whatever," I say, my bad mood deepening. "Whatever you call them, that's what I want." They should just call them larger. How stupid.”

“So why haven’t you called?” I ask her now.She looks uncomfortable. “I told you,” she says, twirling the end of her braid around her finger. “School stuff.”“Bullshit.” She looks at me and opens her mouth, probably to lie again. But then she changes her mind. “I didn’t know what to say.” Her voice catches, so I know she’s telling the truth. “And besides, you didn’t call me, either.” “Because you didn’t call me!” Doesn’t she know that the person who got kicked out of school (me) doesn’t have to call the one who didn’t(her)? She should have called to check up on me, to see how I was doing. She should have come over with lemonades and ice cream, keeping me company, helping me nurse my broken heart. That’s what best friends do. It’s so common it’s cliché.”

“Brooke Wilkins?" I ask [...]"She's this really annoying girl from Cali who, like, constantly talks about all the girls she's hooked up with. It's just so freshman year, you know?""What is?""Bragging about how you've hooked up with girls.""We never did that.""No, but everyone else did. Remember Sonya Fullmer?""Oh, right," I say. "She was always kissing girls to get guys interested in her.""I remember her," Noah says, grinning."Figures," Ava says.”

“So you were checking up on me?" I aks"No," Noah says. He puts a faux-shocked look on his face, then turns back to his magazine, pretending to be engrossed. I take the magazine our of his hand and toss it back onto the table."That's good," I say, "That you weren't checking up on me. Because I'm totally fine.""I know." He shrugs."And I don't need to be checked up on.""Definitely not.""I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.""Perfectly.""So we agree.""Yup.""So then where are you clothes?""What?""Your clothes," I say. "Where are your clothes? You came to the Laundromat so you must have some clothes." I fold my arms across my chest and wait,"Oh, my clothes," he says, giving me an easy grin. "I didn't come here to do laundry.""Oh, really?" I say. "The what were you here to do?""I was here," he says, rolling his eyes like it should be obvious, "so I could go across the street to Cooley's and check my schedule for the week.""And you just happened to see me coming into the Laundromat?""Exactly,”

“You don't know what you're talking about," he says. "And you shouldn't talk about things you know nothing about.”