“You make me believe in love, which I'd give up on. Thank you for proving to me it's not just a fairy tale.”

“You once told me that I make you believe in the impossible. You make me believe in love, which I’d given up on. Thank you for proving to me it’s not just a fairy tale.”

“Just the fact that you need me to prove I love you is probably a clue it isn’t working”

“You make me believe in the impossible.”

“And while my mind is telling me I'm flirting with her just to prove a point, my body wants to play "you show me your perky privates and I'll show you mine.”

“But wishes are only granted in fairy tales.”

“Want to make out?”“With who?” she asks, not bothering to look up.“Me.”She lifts her head from her book just long enough to give me a once-over. “No, thanks,” she says, then goes back to her homework.She’s fuckin’ with me. She’s got to be fuckin’ with me, right? “Because of that pendejo Tuck?”“No. Because I don’t want Madison’s leftovers.”Wait. Un. Momento. I’ve been called a lot of things before, but . . . “You callin’ me leftovers?”“Yeah. Besides, Tuck is a great kisser. I wouldn’t want you to feel bad when there’s no way you can compete.”That guy hardly owns a pair of lips. “Wanna bet?”