Get A Life, Chloe Brown

“Just so you know, you aren’t ever getting rid of me. You’re it, and I’m fucked. I’m completely fucked.”

I only miss him sometimes.

Maybe every single atom in his body imploded, re-formed, and exploded at the sight of that smile. Maybe. But he tried to keep that to himself.

, she wouldn’t compare it to Kenya or Belgium or Cuba because they were all just so different and all equally amazing.

But remember what you told me once? About filling in people’s gaps? You do things for me when I can’t do them for myself. I want to support you in the same way. Can we work on that? Together?”

After all, when it comes to love, it’s not a person’s flaws we’re looking at, now is it?”

Rule of thumb,” he told her. “If you can see someone, they’ll probably see you.”

He’d spent Chloe’s entire school career slipping encouraging notes into her book bag because he knew how much she hated English class. If Martin Brown was ordinary, she wished everyone else would be.

What Chloe actually did to cope was take her medication religiously, write fanciful lists, play The Sims, and live through it. Sometimes it was hard, but she managed by whatever means necessary.

She slid her bra straps off her shoulders, but he finally found his voice. “Woman. Don’t take that thing off unless you want me to die here.”

She rolled her eyes. “So dramatic.”