“Okay,” Cooper says agreeably. “But what if you and Nigel fall in love, and Nigel and I become BFFs, and then you guys get married, and Nigel wants me to be the best man, and you and I have to talk about the wedding plans?”“That would never happen, because since Nigel would be so in love with me, he would have dumped you as a BFF as soon as we got engaged and/or told you you were not allowed to be best man at our wedding, per my wishes.”“Yes, but—”“Wait a minute,” I say. “Did you just say ‘BFF’?”“Yes,” he says. He looks at me and shrugs. “I’ve been watching a lot of Disney Channel.”

“But we're not sleeping," he points out."well, I would be," I say, "if you would let me off the phone." Which is obviously a lie."Fine," he says."Fine," I say."Wait!""What now?!""Court?"I don't say anything."Are you there?""Yes, I'm here," I say, "What is it?""I love you." And then he hangs up the phone.”

“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,”

“[at the hospital]"What do you think's taking them so long?"[...]"Well," I say "They obviously don't think it's a big deal or they would have carted you right back here.""Or," Lacey says, "they probably know I'm going to die and so they're leaving me out here because they need to help the people who actually have a chance.""Lacey," I say. "Did you see them bringing in the guys who was bleeding profusely from the head?""Yes," she says."If that guy has a chance, then you definitely do.”

“Look, do you want to come in? Because for someone who's not talking to me, you certainly seem to have a lot to say.”

“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.”

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