26
" We have to think of a question that we wouldn't otherwise want to answer.'
He stood over the pot, looking down at the leaves. 'Something like, Who do you fancy?'
'That might work,' I said, even though it was the last question I wanted to answer. But it was impossible, suddenly, to tell a lie.
Benjamin took a deep sniff over the steam and turned to me. 'All right,' he said. 'So who do you fancy?'
I hesitated. 'Fancy means like, right?' I said stalling.
'Of course.'
I gritted my teeth against the answer coming out. but I couldn't stop myself. 'You,' I said helplessly. "
― Maile Meloy , The Apothecary (The Apothecary, #1)
27
" Falon stared at Del intently, trying to figure out what was different. As usual, Del was impeccably dressed in a lavender dress that revealed her curves. Her nail polish and shoes matched her clothing perfectly. Del’s shoulder-length blond hair looked the same. “Smile at me,” Falon said suddenly, and Del showed her teeth. “You got Botox again.” “Yeah, my dentist does it at his office now. I can get my teeth cleaned and my lines erased at the same time. If I could get him to do collagen injections, I’d be set. I wish these doctors would work together. If my gynecologist worked in the same office as my dentist, I’d look like a race car in the pit. I’d get it all done in one appointment and be back on the road in no time.” Del glanced at her watch. “That reminds me, I’m going to see a plastic surgeon for a consultation tomorrow, so I’ll be late getting here in the morning.” “Would you leave your face alone? Del, you look fine.” “It’s not my face, I’m thinking about having my vagina reshaped. The other day when I was being lasered, I was staring at it in the big mirror. You can really see all your girl junk in it, but it’s kind of magnified, so I wasn’t really sure if things were as out of proportion as they seemed. When I got home, I looked at it with a hand mirror, and it still doesn’t look right to me.” Del stood and began pulling up her dress. “You’ve seen a shitload of vaginas, so I want you to tell me—” “Don’t you dare whip that out in here!” Falon covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m not looking at it, Del. I’m not!” “Come on, really?” Del looked completely taken aback. “You looked at my boobs.” “That’s because you turned them loose before I realized what you were doing.” Falon waved her hand. “Your lady junk is far more personal than boobs.” “How so?” “Cleavage,” Falon blurted out. “You wear shirts that show cleavage, that’s like a little preview. Your lady junk is a total mystery, and I want it to stay that way... "
― Robin Alexander , Fearless
29
" Now, Mr. Antonio. I understand that there are people who are close to you who want me dead.”
“No, mija. They don’t want you dead.”
“Then explain this.” I handed him the picture.
He chuckled again.
“No, they don’t want you dead. That would be too easy. They want revenge.”
Cold sweat broke out all over me, but I kept my face calm. I looked at him straight in the eye.
“Well, then they are going to be quite disappointed, aren’t they?” I flashed my teeth at him.
“Senorita, you might want to warn Senor Smith, you see, my nephew he doesn’t like to share, and if he sees another man after you, he’ll get very, eh, aggressive.” The silver fox looked at me and winked.
“Oh, he won’t have to worry.” I said as I was walking out the door. “I doubt he will be alive long enough to know Agent Smith.”
Then I slammed the door. "
― Rumi Antoinette
31
" The Wolf trots to and fro,
The world lies deep in snow,
The raven from the birch tree flies,
But nowhere a hare, nowhere a roe,
The roe -she is so dear, so sweet -
If such a thing I might surprise
In my embrace, my teeth would meet,
What else is there beneath the skies?
The lovely creature I would so treasure,
And feast myself deep on her tender thigh,
I would drink of her red blood full measure,
Then howl till the night went by.
Even a hare I would not despise;
Sweet enough its warm flesh in the night.
Is everything to be denied
That could make life a little bright?
The hair on my brush is getting grey.
The sight is failing from my eyes.
Years ago my dear mate died.
And now I trot and dream of a roe.
I trot and dream of a hare.
I hear the wind of midnight howl.
I cool with the snow my burning jowl,
And on to the devil my wretched soul I bear. "
― Hermann Hesse
32
" Bianca?”
Startled, I focused on Toby again. “Hmm?”
“Are you all right?” he asked.
My fingers had been toying with the little B charm around my neck without my realizing it. Immediately I dropped my hand to my side. “I’m fine.”
“Casey warned me that you’re probably lying when you say that,” he said.
I gritted my teeth and searched the dance floor for my so-called friend. She was being added to my hit list.
“And I think she’s right,” Toby sighed.
“What?”
“Bianca, I can see what’s going on.” He glanced over his shoulder at Wesley before turning back to me with a little nod. “He’s been staring at you since he got here.”
“Has he?”
“I can see him in the mirrors over there. And you’ve been staring back,” Toby said. “It’s not just tonight either. I’ve seen the way he looks at you during school. In the hallways. He likes you, doesn’t he?”
“I… I don’t know. I guess.” Oh God, this was uncomfortable. I just kept spinning my straw between my fingers and watching the little waves that appeared on the surface of my drink. I couldn’t meet Toby’s gaze.
“I don’t have to guess,” he said. “It’s pretty obvious. And the way you look at him makes me think you’re in love with him, too.”
“No!” I cried, releasing my straw and glaring up at Toby. “No, no, no. I am not in love with him, okay?”
Toby gave me a small smile and said, “But you do have feelings for him.”
I couldn’t see any sign of pain in his eyes, just a touch of amusement. That made it a lot easier to give him an answer. “Um,… yeah.”
“Then go to him.”
I rolled my eyes without meaning to. It was just so automatic. “Jesus, Toby,” I said, “that sounds like a line out of a bad movie.”
Toby shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m serious, Bianca. If you feel that way about him, you should go over there. "
― Kody Keplinger , The DUFF: Designated Ugly Fat Friend (Hamilton High, #1)
34
" Gritting my teeth as if it requires actual physical strength, I push the memory of him dying in my arms down, deep down. It almost seems to fight me, to want to surge into the forefront of my mind, and I sigh. Long ago I came to the realization that painful memories are persistent. The agony of them stays with you much longer, sharper, and clearer than sweet memories, that soften and assume a hazy, rosy glow in your mind, almost as if they have been airbrushed. Remembrance of pain is different; there is no muting of colors, no blurring of edges. No, its colors remain stark and bold, a palette of vibrant primary reds, blues, and yellows; its edges stay defined and razor sharp. Years later it can still cut you as deeply, make you bleed as profusely, as the day it was formed. FROM AN UNTITLED WORK IN PROGRRESS "
40
" I pressed inside her, inch by inch, gazing into her face. Her beauty. Mesmerizing. I was awed that I was inside her . . . or nearly. When I came to the barrier of her virginity, I met her eyes, full of trust and wonder, and whispered, " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, sweet Lydia. Mo Chroí." And then I pressed inside, tearing her. She cried out in pain. I wanted to comfort her, but it felt so blessedly good that I could only bring my forehead to hers, holding myself still by sheer force of will, gritting my teeth to stop myself from thrusting, while she became used to my invasion. Why did it have to be that something that felt so wonderful to me hurt her? "
