Casey McQuiston

I can love you and want you and still not want that life. I’m allowed

He has the personality of a cabbage.”

Khakis are for white people.”

“You’re thirty-nine.”

“My liver is ninety-three.”

The moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed. O, fathers of my bloodline!

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he says finally.

He leaves Alex standing there alone in the kitchen, the box of Cornettos sweating on the counter.

Whatever, fine. Henry is annoyingly attractive. That’s always been a thing, objectively. It’s fine.

don’t know WHO you think you’re kidding, you hufflepuff-ass bitch, Alex texts back, before Henry clarifies his dog, not him, is a Slytherin.

“You keep doing that stupid smile every time you look at your phone. Who are you texting?”

mean, your dog is named David, which is pretty boring.”

“After Bowie.”

“I—” Alex’s head spins, recalibrating. “Are you serious? What the hell? Why not call him Bowie, then?”