“Last year I kissed this freshman girl at a pool party and she wouldn’t get off my nuts for six months. Which is why my policy is now no psychotics, and no freshmen. The freshmen thing is obviously easy to avoid, while the psychotics pose a bit more of a problem. It’s not like girls walk around with “I’m crazy” stamped on their chests.”

“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.”

“The information age is so psychotic – without the cell phone and Internet, I would be drama free right now.”

“I kind of like that she gave me a little bit of attitude. I mean, she's obviously super apologetic and she knows it's a horrible situation, and she's definitely nervous I might flip the fuck out on her, but she doesn't seem embarrassed. It's more like she thinks shit happens, and I should deal with it. I can respect that.”

“It's definitely broken," my mom says [...]"Maybe it's unplugged or something," [...]"Honey, it's broken," my mom says. She sounds like she's trying to break it to me gently. I can't really blame her. The other day she told me there was no more vanilla ice cream, and I burst into tears right in the middle of the kitchen. She obviously knows I'm fragile.”

“In my mind, I still think of him as being a cheater. Otherwise he just met some girl he liked better, and it's not as dramatic.”

“And then I get it. The 318s have somehow decided to make me do the things that are in my notebook. All the things I’m afraid of. The things I’ve been writing since the seventh grade. And if I don’t, they’re going to post the book on the internet, and everyone at school, no, everyone with an internet connection, will know all my secrets. For a second, it feels like my throat swallows up my heart and my breath catches in my throat. There’s only one thing left to do. I put my head in my hands and start to cry.”