Stalk Me

So, you're single. I'm single. Let's mingle

He says, "Keats for my Keats. Look inside." I gently open the cover. Inside, written in pencil,is an old inscription. 1903, To my love. -S Underneath is more pencil, written in Brooklyn's neat print. Even Keats speaks of chaos. There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music. All my love, B

I look out at the ocean glittering in the moonlight and wonder where he is. Where is my perfect boy? Could he be staring at the moon at this exact moment, wishing for me, too?

Women dress for women, if we dressed for me, we'd all be running around naked.

My phone buzzes again. Crush: You're single. I'm single. Let's mingle.

Emery gives me a rock that she's colored on. She whispers in my ear. "You can smash people's fingers with it when they're mean.

I swear to God, I think my panties just melted off my body. How can Crush just talking sex make me hot?

I glance down, and my eyes get big. "What?" He glances down, realizes why my eyes are big, and shrugs his shoulders. "It's morning." "It's cute. Can I keep it?

You smell salty," he says. "Like the ocean." He leans closer to me and licks up the side of my face. "You taste salty too. Maybe I should grab a bottle of tequila and we should have some fun." He moves his eyebrows up and down. "What do you say? We'll do some shots and I'll lick you all over.

I think it was Betsey Johnson that said women dress for other women. If we dressed for men, we’d all run around naked.

You can’t control when you’ll fall in love.” I ignore her comment because hell yes I can. And I will.

So you’re going shopping with your ex-boyfriend to find an outfit to snare your next boyfriend? Oh, what a tangled web you weave.

After a kiss like that, he should know I’m the one. He should be down on his knees begging me to marry him and have his little Hottie babies. There shouldn’t be anything to think about.

Cush: Pick you up at 7. Look hot. It’ll distract him. Me: You’re bad. Cush: Most girls tell me I’m good. Wanna find out?