Emmy & Oliver

The more you start to love someone, the more you ache when they’re gone, and maybe it’s that middle ground that hurts the most, when you can see them and still not feel like you’re near enough.

Could you please stop dripping your sarcasm all over my car’s interior?

Sometimes love isn't something you say, it's something you do.

Well, that’s growing up, isn’t it?” my dad said. “You don’t always have to know. And things aren’t always fair. You just have to keep moving forward. A step in one direction.

The only way I could describe what kissing him felt like was, like the last day of school, knowing that months of freedom and sunshine lay before you, the feeling that you could do anything you wanted and time stretched out in endless possibilities.

An earthquake would have been better. At least during an earthquake, you understand why you're shaking.

That’s when I first learned about true frustration, that wrenching ache when the thing that matters most to you barely makes a ripple in other people’s lives.

He looked like a stranger, and then he met my glance, and it was like I had never stopped seeing him.

Like, what’s wrong with being like other girls?

I just hugged him and didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say. Sometimes there just aren't enough words to fill the cracks in your heart.

Wanting someone isn't the same as loving them, though," he said. "You know? It doesn't mean the same thing.

Tonight sucked" my dad said and I started to laugh hearing him say that. "What?" He smiled at me. "Isn't that the slang you kids are using? The lingo? Do I sound hip?" I just shook my head. "The only hip I hear is the sound of yours breaking.

Can you pass me the slutty one, please?” I handed her the bottle of bright-red nail polish. “I think it’s actually called Crimson Cabaret,” I said. “Don’t be a slut-shamer.

And oh my God, who brought that goddamn guitar? I want to kill them. Do you know how you can tell who the douche bag is at the party? It’s the guy who starts playing the acoustic guitar.

Well, what do I say?” I ran my thumb over my phone’s screen. “Like, ‘Good making out with your face last night? Let’s do it again.’?

Sometimes there just aren't enough words to fill the crack in your heart.

But knowing something and feeling something are two totally different things.

We don’t even have a goldfish.” “You’ve got to think toward the future.” My dad smiled at me. “Maybe one day you’ll move out and your mom and I will get a golden retriever to replace you.

Sometimes, the things people don't say are louder than the words that come out of their mouths.

The world continues to spin even when we want it to stop, I thought. Especially then.

I'm very nice. I'm nice to everyone who deserves my niceness. -Emmy

My hair was probably a disaster and my shirt was still damp, but I didn’t care. It was funny, I never cared about those things with Oliver. I didn’t worry about how I looked. All that mattered was how I felt.

the tears finally got the best of him and he pressed his palms to his eyes as his shoulders started to shake. He cried silently, in so much pain that there was no sound to equal it

That’s the nicest and most sociopathic thing anyone’s ever said to me.

...I turned the music back on and reached to turn off my lamp, trying not to think about anything for a few minutes. That's always impossible, though. It's easier to stop breathing than it is to stop thinking.

Sometimes there just aren't enough words to fill the cracks in your heart.

I am so tired of paying the price for something I never did and didn't even want in the first place!

I told you, I’m a loyal friend. Kicking therapists, punching sharks, whatever it takes.

I’m forever hopeful,” he said. “That’s what friends do. They hope. They have faith in each other.” “Well, I have faith that she’ll forget,” I said, hiking my backpack up onto my shoulders. “You have to be a realist with Caro.” “I’m a hopeful realist,” Drew said. “I’m a healist! Like those guys on TV late at night that cure people of cancer.” He grinned down at me.

That's when I first learned about true frustration, that wrenching ache when the thing that matters most to you barely makes a ripple in other people's lives.