Chapter Two
Page 38 • Dec 6, 2025
Prescotts
like in life is strange?
Page 40 • Dec 6, 2025
“I’m not quirky. I have generalized anxiety disorder, and trust me, there is nothing cute about it.”
Page 40 • Dec 6, 2025
“Dude, this is Portland. We all have GAD. Get yourself a therapist already.”
“I have a therapist,” I mumble. Her name is Anna, I see her twice a month through an online service. Based on the fact that she told me I’m “thriving” at our last session, she’s obviously awful at her job.
Chapter Four
Page 56 • Dec 6, 2025
Andrew drives a Tesla,
boo
Page 57 • Dec 6, 2025
“Like, he has floor seats to the Blazers,” Andrew starts, “but did he ever let anyone use his tickets when he was in Europe? Never. The seats would just sit there, empty. And he banned me from the vacation home in France because of one incident involving absinthe, even though what happened to the head on that fountain sculpture wasn’t even my fault. And nothing I did could ever live up to his impossible expectations.”
Page 57 • Dec 6, 2025
I stare at his hand, hanging out on my knee uninvited. I’m not sure if this is an old-man-in-a-bathtub situation or simply how allosexual people express gratitude, but I cross my legs so his hand has to fall away.
Page 75 • Dec 6, 2025
“I—I wasn’t crying.”
They arch a second eyebrow, creating a look of surprise on what I’m beginning to notice is a rather attractive face. “You know I can see you, right? There are still tears in your eyes.” They gesture to my friend. “And you told this footstool you’re crying.”
Chapter Five
Page 92 • Dec 6, 2025
“I can’t believe I told you to find a himbo and you actually did it. And in a classic Ellie overachiever move, you took it a step further and got engaged. We should talk about your perfectionist tendencies at some point, but I’m honestly proud of you.”
Chapter Six
Page 100 • Dec 7, 2025
“I’m just poor, you asshole,” I say as I sling my shoulder bag across my body and reach for my duffle. “Don’t criminalize poor people.”
He looks positively aghast. “I’m not! But Oliver, this is horrible. Quite possibly the worst thing I’ve ever seen. And I once spent two weeks on a party boat sailing around the South Pacific with twenty guys from my frat, and the plumbing stopped working on day three.”
Page 105 • Dec 7, 2025
The truth is: the world is full of selfish people who become selfish parents. It’s hard to explain to anyone who grew up with stability and safety and guaranteed love what it’s like to both hate your parents and desperately want their love at the same time.
Page 109 • Dec 7, 2025
“This is not a cabin! It’s a fucking ski chalet!”
Chapter Seven
Page 122 • Dec 7, 2025
“Is she having a stroke?” Meemaw wonders.
“I’ve had a stroke,” Lovey throws in. “This ain’t it.”
Page 123 • Dec 7, 2025
It’s Jack.
Jacqueline.
Jacqueline Kim-Prescott, apparently.
I’ve agreed to marry the brother of my one-night stand from last Christmas.
Chapter Ten
Page 184 • Dec 7, 2025
“You forgot I’m also rather gifted at making fuck tons of money for people who already have fuck tons of money.”
“I could never forget that, you capitalist pig.”
Chapter Eleven
Page 214 • Dec 7, 2025
“Aren’t you going to tell me that I’m being irrational?”
She turns to face me, so close, our noses almost brush. “Is that something that helps you when you’re having a panic attack? Being told you’re irrational?”
“God, no.”
Chapter Twelve
Page 219 • Dec 7, 2025
“Do you usually bake Christmas cookies sober?” they ask, sounding horrified by the thought.
Chapter Fourteen
Page 260 • Dec 7, 2025
“I’m not a bonder,” I say. “I don’t bond.”
“You’ve bonded with me.” Andrew grins. “Besides, you’re going to be sisters soon. Might as well get in some quality girl time.”
Chapter Fifteen
Page 280 • Dec 7, 2025
As soon as we get back home, I flee to the nearest bathroom to cry on a toilet seat about it.
It is, at least, a nice bathroom for crying. The kind with a gilded mirror and expensive soaps and vases full of decorative rocks. I sit on the closed toilet seat with my head in my hands, letting the tears leak down between my fingers as I try to catch my breath.
I’m not even sure why I’m crying. This doesn’t change anything.
Page 282 • Dec 7, 2025
Meemaw swirls her drink and makes a knowing click of her tongue. “Something silly like… the fact that you had sex with my granddaughter last Christmas?”
Page 288 • Dec 7, 2025
They’re also wearing a T-shirt that says, “Merry Capitalist Consumer-Driven Corruption of a Pagan Fertility Holiday.” Because there is nothing Dylan Montez loves more than ironic juxtapositions.
Chapter Sixteen
Page 305 • Dec 7, 2025
“I didn’t ‘give women a try,’ Mom. I’m bisexual.”
“Not anymore, apparently. Now you’re getting married!”
fuck her
Chapter Twenty-Two
Page 383 • Dec 7, 2025
free hand clutches at my throat. The whole lumbersexual thing suddenly makes perfect sense because good lord. Watching Jack chop that piece of wood in half is the single most arousing thing my demisexual brain has ever witnessed. Even though her muscles aren’t visible through her flannel, I can somehow sense the way they ripple, the tendons in her neck straining, her hands flexing against the handle of the axe. Some primal instinct in me says, This one could build you shelter.
I press my legs tightly together and clear my throat. “That was… good.”
She rolls her shoulders, and I stifle a whimper. This night will definitely end with my death.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Page 396 • Dec 7, 2025
I also take a sip of whisky. It tastes like barbecued nail polish remover and goes straight to my head. Why does anyone drink hard alcohol neat?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Page 438 • Dec 7, 2025
Simon and Schuster
directly to the big 5?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Page 453 • Dec 7, 2025
“For me?” Jack echoes, like she must have misunderstood the cruel irony of that claim. “You lied to me for me?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Page 473 • Dec 8, 2025
“I’m moving forward. I’ve showered. I’ve put on a real bra.” I gesture to my damp hair and fully supported breasts in turn. “Progress is being made.”
Page 479 • Dec 8, 2025
“Your mom sucks the most suck of all the people who suck that aren’t, like, war criminals or Republican senators.”
Chapter Thirty
Page 486 • Dec 8, 2025
“By ‘party,’ you mean eat Sour Punch Bites, drink hard cider, and rewatch all of Gilmore Girls, right?”
“Obviously.”
Page 488 • Dec 8, 2025
Every single Brideshead housemate is in therapy, and they all refer to their therapists by their first names and talk about them in casual conversation. It’s weird, but in a good way.
Page 501 • Dec 8, 2025
“I convinced myself that someone like her could never love someone like me, so I self-sabotaged in the most epic way possible by assuming we weren’t meant to last. And I did that twice.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Page 506 • Dec 8, 2025
(“A hedge fund?” I asked. To which Dylan scoffed, “I know, I truly can’t take him anywhere in this city anymore.”)
Page 511 • Dec 8, 2025
“Shit. She’s seen me. What do I do?”
“Um, go talk to her?”
“What? No. Gross.”
“Continue standing in the doorway like a weirdo, then. You’re right, that’s a better plan.”