Nothing makes you get down on yourself and worry that you’re undesirable like rejection, so having someone desirable desire you is the ultimate antidote.

Meanwhile, every corner of this city is laced with memories of us together.

I realize that I’m far less familiar with my own privates than with Guy’s, and I’ve seen his only twice! I guess that’s to be expected, since girls can’t really look at ourselves without a reflection, whereas nothing’s hidden with boys. It seems unfair, but there’s also something neat about it being shrouded in secrecy.

As juvenile as we sound, sometimes the most fun thing in the world is laughing with girls about boys.

A boy sees a girl topless for the first time only once, and the anticipation of the big reveal is really exciting. I feel like I’m a present being unwrapped.

How is it that human anatomy evolved so that something as stupid-looking as a repetitive back-and-forth movement can generate the peak of physical ecstasy?

Back in high school, I never understood how Amy could enjoy getting with guys just for the short haul. In a way, though, making out like this is more enjoyable because there’s no pressure for me to not do or say anything stupid. What’s the worst that can happen if I do? So I’m freer to focus on what I’m feeling, not what he feels about me.

Amy is so correct that a good personality can make a guy better-looking.

The more I hurt, the more I knew I loved, and that felt like a good thing. So that I'm letting go of the pain means I'm also letting go of the love.

Why did I have to love him so much if we’re not going to end up together?