“Didn't you learn anything from my mistakes?" he asks.Shit, when Alex was in the Latino Blood back in Chicago I worshiped him. "You don't want to hear my answer to that.”

“He’s my brother, my blood. He annoys the hell out of me most of the time, but when it comes right down to it I want to see him graduate from college and have little annoying mini-Alexes and mini-Brittanys running around in the future”

“Did I ever tell you that Alex loves you so much he got your name tattooed all over his body? Hell, he even got your name branded into the back of his neck.""They say 'LB,' Carlos. The initials for Latino Blood.""No, no, no. You've got it all wrong. He wants everyone to think that, but in reality it means Lover of Brittany. LB, get it?”

“Listen Chica-" Carlos says when we're driving to my mom's store"don't call me that anymore" I tell him"what do you want me to call you, then?" I shrug "whatever. Just not Chica"Carlos holds his hand up "what do you want me from me? You want me to tell you lies? Okay. Kara, without you i'm nothin'. Kara, you own my heart and soul. Kara,, i love you. Is that what you to hear?"yes""No guy who actually says those things really mean them""I bet your brother says them to Brittney and means them""that's because he's lost all common sense. I though you the one girl who didn't fall for my bull""I don't. Consider my wanting you as my real boyfriend a lapse of judgement," I tell him "But i'm over it”

“Alex took a piece of my heart with him when he left.”

“Normal? I'm not normal enough for you?" Carlos says. "You want this guy instead? Did you notice his hair doesn't move? That's not normal. You want to date him again, go ahead. Hell, if you want to marry him and be Kiara Barra the rest of your life, be my guest.""That's not want I--""I don't want to hear it. Hasta," Carlos says, ignoring me and walking away.I feel my face heat in embarrassment as I look at Michael. "Sorry. Carlos can he abrasive sometimes.""Don't apologize. The guy obviously has major issues and, for the record, my hair moves... when I want it to.”

“Where's my cell phone?" I ask. "And please put a shirt on." He reaches down and grabs my phone off the floor. "Why?" "The reason I need my cell," I say as I take it from him, "is to call a cab and the reason I want you to put a shirt on is, well, because, urn . . ." "You've never seen a guy with his shirt off?" "Ha, ha. Very funny. Believe me, you don't have anything I haven't seen before." "Wanna bet?" he says, then moves his hands to the button on his jeans and pops it open. Isabel walks in at that exact moment. "Whoa, Alex. Please keep your pants on.”