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“Wesley Rush doesn't date, he fucks - everyone, for that matter.”

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“No rush. This time things were slow and earnest. This time I wasn't looking for an escape. This time it was about him. About me. About honesty and compassion and everything I'd never expected to find in Wesley Rush.”

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“"...we’re all fucking Duffs.”

(Designated Ugly Fat Friend)

“I’m not the Duff,” Wesley said confidently.

“That’s because you don’t have friends.” (Bianca)

“Oh. Right.””

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“Yeah, it was sick and twisted, but that’s reality, right? Escape is impossible, so why not embrace it?”

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“Calling Vikki a slut or a whore was just like calling somebody the Duff. It was insulting and hurtful, and it was one of those titles that just fed off the inner fear every girl must have from time to time. Slut, bitch, prude, tease, ditz. They were all the same. Every girl felt like one of these sexist labels described her at some point.”

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“I kissed someone tonight."

"Good for you. Now go back to sleep."

"It was Wesley...Wesley Rush."

Casey shot straight up in bed. "Whoa!" She shook her head and rubbed the sleep from her wide hazel eyes. "Okay, now I'm awake.”

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“Don’t lie to yourself because you think nit’s safer. Reality doesn’t work like that…”

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“He wasn't perfect, or even remotely close, for that matter, but, hey, neither was I. We were both pretty fucked up. Somehow, though, that made everything more exciting. Yeah, it was sick and twisted, but that's reality, right? Escape is impossible, so why not embrace it?”

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“I'm perfectly fine with being used. But I would like to know for what I'm being used.

Distraction

That much I gathered. What am I supposed to be distracting you from? There's a chance that if I knew, I could do my job more effectively.”

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“I shook my head. "Don’t bother making excuses," I said. "Don’t waste your time because, the fact is, I am the Duff. But so is everyone else in the world. We’re all fucking Duffs."

"I’m not the Duff," Wesley said confidently.

"That’s because you don’t have friends."

"Oh. Right.”

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