“Only narrowly avoided being elbowed in the face by a girl attired in what could only be described as "slutty Gryffindor" apparel. So wrong.”

“You like me,” he finally said. “You like me, like me.” He was trying not to smile.“No. I hate you,” I said, hoping that saying it would make it so.“And yet, you draw me.” Noah was still smug, completely undeterred by my declaration.This was torture; worse somehow than what just happened, even though it was only the two of us. Or because it was only the two of us.“Why?” he asked.“Why what?” What could I say? Noah, despite you being an asshole, or maybe because of it, I’d like to rip off your clothes and have your babies. Don’t tell.”

“Anna used to be the abstinence poster girl, but you could write a comic book about the many adventures of her vagina. It could wear a cape.”

“What could I say? Noah, despite you being an asshole, or maybe because of it, I'd like to rip off your clothes and have your babies.”

“Have you kissed many boys before?" he asked quietly. His question brought my mind back into focus. I raised an eyebrow. "Boys? That's an assumption." Noah laughed, the sound low and husky. "Girls, then?""No.""Not many girls? Or not many boys?""Neither," I said. Let him make of that what he would."How many?" "Why—" "I am taking away that word. You are no longer allowed to use it. How many?" My cheeks flushed, but my voice was steady as I answered. "One." At this, Noah leaned in impossibly closer, the slender muscles in his forearm flexing as he bent his elbow to bring himself nearer to me, almost touching. I was heady with the proximity of him and grew legitimately concerned that my heart might explode. Maybe Noah wasn't asking. Maybe I didn't mind. I closed my eyes and felt Noah's five o' clock graze my jaw, and the faintest whisper of his lips at my ear."He was doing it wrong.”

“What is real?" Asked the boy. "It is a thing that happens to you when a girl loves you for a long time. Not just to play with," Noah said. "But really loves you." "Does it hurt?" Asked the boy. "Sometimes. When you are real you don't mind being hurt.”

“Fix me," I commanded him. "This thing, what I've done - there's something wrong with me, Noah. Fix it."Noah's expression broke my heart as he brushed my hair from my face, and skimmed the line of my neck. "I can't""Why not?" I asked, my voice threatening to crack."Because," he said, "You're not broken.”