Overruled

Young love is strong. First love is powerful. But what you don’t know when you’re young—what you can’t know—is how long life actually is. And the only dependable thing about it, besides death and taxes, is change.

In third grade I thought I loved her - by sixth grade, I was sure of it

Sex with Stanton is exhilarating, working beside him is a privilege. But loving him…that just hurts.

He turns to me with open arms—expecting a hug of course. Because I have a vagina. ... penises shake hands, vaginas hug. Not this one, buddy.

You’re so stubborn – you’re so stuck on what you think is supposed to be there, that you’re missin’ what’s right in front of you.

I don’t want to share my daughter’s affection with another man. But I also don’t want to tear her in half – make her choose between the two people she loves most in the world. It’s not her job to protect my feelings or her mother’s. It’s our job to protect hers .

Do you really want to be judged by twelve people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty?

Most stories finish at the end. But not this one. This one finishes with a whole new beginning.

You know my daughter, Presley?” He nods. “Sure. Cute kid, hot mom. Unfortunate name.

We broke up in eighth grade when Tara-Mae Forrester offered to let me touch her boobs. And I did.

She laughs. “Stanton, I’m trying to make partner.” “I know.” “And you’re trying to make partner.” “True.” We walk silently. Then I lean closer to her, guessing, “So that’s a yes, then?” She grins. “Yes . . . I’ll think about it.” I give her her favorite lopsided grin. “Good.” Sofia holds up a finger. “But not now.” “No.” “Make sure your sperm is aware of that. It has a history of going rogue.” I nod. “I’ll send the sperm a memo and CC your ovaries.” She nods. “But soon.” “Soon is good.

The whole world is a court case… and we're all... defendants.

We left modesty in the dust a ways back – around the first time she played jockey on my face.

I shake my head. Eye on the prize, Sofia. And no matter what my clitoris might believe, the prize is not Stanton Shaw’s glorious, golden penis.

If you love something let it go, if it comes back to you it’s yours.” She shakes her head. “You never came back.

There comes a time in every man’s life when he takes a good, long look at himself and admits he’s been an asshole. A self-centered prick.

Then Drew Evans strolls into my room. Drew is like no one I’ve ever known. It’s as if there’s a spotlight on him that never dims—he demands your notice.

I was the youngest in my family, and the only daughter, they were highly protective. But instead of restricting me, that protective instinct drove my parents to make sure I was capable and prepared for whatever life may throw at me. Opportunities, my father would say, have to be seized with both hands, because you never know if they'll come again.

Not for the first time, I wonder if Drew Evans is the devil—or a close relation. I can picture him offering the fastingChrist a loaf of bread and making it sound completely acceptable for him to take a big ole bite out of it.

You’ve heard the freshmen fifteen? Be prepared for the Shaw twenty.

She braces her hands on the table, leaning forward. And I have a whole new esteem for gravity—because it’s that force that causes her blouse to pull away from her body, giving me a delectable view of her stunning tits encased in delicate black lace.