“Sometimes, the biggest secrets you can only tell a stranger.”

“I did something brave, then. Or stupid. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.”

“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.”

“But when everyone tells you you're crazy and no one believes you when you swear you aren't, a small part of you will always wonder if they're right.”

“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.”

“Asscrown," I muttered under my breath as I headed to my next class. I wasn't proud of swearing at a complete stranger, no. but he started it.Noah matched my pace. "Don't you mean 'assclown'?" He looked amused."No," I said, louder this time. "I mean asscrown. The crown on top of the asshat that covers the asshole of the assclown. The very zenith in the hierarchy of asses," I said, as though I was reading from a dictionary of modern profanity."I guess you nailed me then.”

“Mara, if you're tired, I can hear it. If you're hurt, I can feel it. And if you lie, I will know it.”