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Lise Friedman

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“What are you going to do, Luca?' I clenched my fists at my sides. 'Pull a gun on me?' 'If that's what it takes.' 'How brave!' I exploded. We were so close to one another now. 'You can't use your words. but you're more than happy to use your gun.' 'I'm not going to be responsible for ruining your innocence!' I tilted my face towards him to show I wasn't afraid, or as innocent as he clearly thought. 'Go ahead,' I whispered. 'Shatter it.' We were nose to nose. 'It almost worked last time, when you told me about my dad.' 'I don't care,' he replied resolutely. 'I'm not punching Bambi in the face.”

“Sorry,” I said, realizing I was taking my frustrations out on her. “I’m still getting over Soph,” I said, referring to my old prep school friend. Sophie Price was the most beautiful girl you’d ever met. Seriously. Take it from someone who’s met Bar Refaeli in person. Soph was even more stunning. Especially since she’d had a personality makeover. I’d never regret anything as much as I would not making her fall in love with me. “You can’t make anyone fall, Spence. Either they do or they don’t.” “I said that out loud?” “Duh and it’s been two years, Spencer. You seriously need to get over her. She’s with that Ian guy anyway, right?” “Right.” “That hot South African guy named Ian,” she concluded. “Thanks.” “That hot saffy named Ian who gives his life to mutilated Ugandan orphans and worships the ground Sophie walks on.” I stopped and glared at her. “That’ll do, Bridge.”