So after our heroine sleeps with the boyfriend she knows is and describes as a controlling jerkwad and he admits to LYING and MANIPULATING her to get her to stay with him in the Underworld and causing her all sorts of emotional angst at the beginning of the book, we get this lovely inner narration from her:
I knew I should be horribly angry with him… and a part of me was.
But there was another part of me that wanted to laugh at his masculine bullheadedness, though I restrained myself, not feeling laughter would be the appropriate response.
“I forgive you,” I said gravely. “This time. But I can’t believe you did something so awful. You better never do it again…”
Y’all, this shit is in a Meg Cabot book. Meg My-Awesome-Brain-Gave-Birth-To-Suze-Simons-and-Ellie-Harrison Cabot.
Let me just go throw myself off the edge of the world because I hate everything.
I finished the Gallagher Girls series last weekend. I loved every single page of it.
But I have to wait until NEXT MARCH for the fifth book?!
I hate everything.