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Nothing makes me happy quite like a boatload of freshly fried fast food, smothered in good old MSG.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
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Centerville
Utah
Quite
Happy
Boatload
Makes
Smothered
Nothing
Crescendo
Good
Freshly
Like
Fried
Fast
Food
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The more time I spent with him, the more I knew the feelings weren't going away.
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The truth is, normal might take years. Normal might never happen. But it’s definitely not going to happen if I lounge around here watching soaps and avoiding life. I’m going to school today, end of story.
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A feeling of violation swayed inside me, making me feel as if Id been shoved off a high platform without warning. I was falling, and I feared the sensation far more than hitting bottom. There was no end just a constantsense of gravity having its way with me.
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Everything had come into sharp focus : his smooth words, his black, glinting eyes, his broad experience with lies, seduction, women. I'd fallen in love with the devil.
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Sure thing, Gumdrop. -Scott
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Door’s locked,” he said. “And we have unfinished business.
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and just like that, I shut off the switch to my brain.
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Nice costume, he said. Ditto. I can tell you put a lot of thought into yours. Amusement curled his mouth. If you don't like it, I can take it off.
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Does Patch have a restraining order against him?' he read. 'Is Patch a felon?' 'Give-me-that!' I hissed furiously. Patch gave a soft laugh, and I knew he'd seen the next question. 'Does Patch have a girlfriend?
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It will cost me a lot to send you with Scott wearing that dress but, just so you know: if you come with that dress slightly wrinkled,I will trace Scott, and when I find him, it's not gonna be pretty
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A war was coming either way. Now all I had to do was choose my opponent
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I took three steps back he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked. “I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house! “Tacos?” “Tacos?” I echoed. This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.” “I know what a taco is!
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Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't.
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What is it with you and girls’ bathrooms?
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You smell good. It's called a shower. Soap, shampoo, water- Naked. I know the drill.
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He cracked a slight smile, but it didn’t look amused. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. You’re looking a little deranged, Angel. We’ll go together.
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How warm I feel. How icredibly alive and vibrant and heedless every last inch of me feels next to you.
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Nora: This is crazy. Patch: I'm crazy. About you.
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Being nice? He’s being horny.
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The only thing a boyfriend was good for was a shattered heart.
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