Amina Khan

Stop. Stop it. Do something; tear at my hair, wrap your hands around my neck, shout at me for saying something so horrible, call me all the truly terrible names you can muster. Just… do something, Adaline.

“Tell me. Tell me everything. Tell me the most boring parts of your day that don't even interest you, tell me how you wake up in the morning and how you sleep at night. Tell me what scares you and what your deepest desires are. I want it all, all of your mind and all of your thoughts, give it all to me and only me…because I don't think I can breathe without it anymore.”

I thought she was the most ethereal girl I had ever seen in my entire life… until she opened her mouth.

Think of Regina George, but mind-numbingly worse, then you have Juliette Kingston.

I’m not religious by any means, but sometimes, I think God sent Juliette down specifically with the intention of making my life hell. Props to her, because it worked.

“The only time I would ever dream about you is if I was having a nightmare.”

None of the kids at this school would ever drop out of school as a child and work tirelessly in a garage to support their young sister; to give up on their dreams, just so I could achieve my own and then have it rewarded with a prison sentence.

“Don’t you get tired of pretending like I don’t affect you?”

She. I mean, when she plays this game because I don’t like playing with her.

Or do I?

“You leave when I say you can.”