“God, shoot me now, Trey thought. Babies, weddings, and preg- nancies. What will they be talking about next? Their periods?”

“What's wrong, Eric? Aggie asked."He got his period,"Trey said.”

“What's 'TTYL'?" Trey asked coming up to me."Talk to you later," I said."Well excuse me; what the fuck did I do to piss you off?""No Trey," I started laughing. My alcohol consumption was giving me a very nice buzz. "TTYL are the first letter initials for the phrase: Talk To You Later.”

“Thanks. And I’ll give Brayden a talking-to so he doesn’t try anything on Thursday.” My mind was still full of Latin and Shakespeare. “Try what?” Trey shook his head. “Honestly, Melbourne, I don’t know Trey shook his head. “Honestly, Melbourne, I don’t know how you’ve survived this long in the world without me.” “Oh,” I said, blushing. “That.” Great. Now I had something else to worry about. Trey scoffed. “Between you and me, Brayden’s probably the last guy in the world you have to worry about. I think he’s as clueless as you are. If I didn’t care about your virtue so much, I’d actualy probably give him a lecture on how to try something.”

“What I find about wedding plans is that everyone wants to talk about when I don't. As soon as I do feel like talking about my wedding plans, their eyes glaze over and I can see them wishing they were dead”

“Don't talk to me about aesthetics or tradition. Talk to me about what sells and what's good right now. And what the American people like is to think the underdog still has a chance.”