“Holy shit! Where's a cell phone camera when you need one?”

“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.”

“A cell phone rings. I can feel the vibration through Brittany’s pants. “It’s hers,” I say.“Answer it,” Isa Instructs.I already feel like I’ve kidnapped the girl. Now I’m gonna answer her cell? Shit. Rolling her a bit, I feel for the bulge in her back pocket. “Contesta,” Isa whispers loudly, this time in Spanish.“I am,” I hiss, my fingers clumsy as I fumble for the phone.“I’ll do it,” Paco says, leaning over the seats and reaching toward Brittany’s ass.I whack his hand away. “Get your hands off her.”“Geez, man, I was just tryin’ to help.”My response is a glare.”

“Being told when to shit, shower, shave, eat, and sleep isn't my idea of paradise. But then again, Paradise, where i grew up, wasn't paradise either. I'm wondering if paradise is just some word in the dictionary with the definition: this doesn't fucking exist.--Caleb to himself”

“Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened between you and Marco. To be honest I don’t really want to know, ’cause if I did I’d probably want to kick the shit outta him.”“I don’t need you to protect me.”“What if I want to?”

“Alex probably brings his dates sharp knives as gifts, in case she'll need one when she's out on a date with him.”

“Brittany, I love hangin' with you. Shit, when I get to school I scan the halls lookin' for you. As soon as I catch sight of these angelic streaks of sunshine," I say, fingering her hair, "I know I can make it through the day.”