Extraits

If Ammu and Abbu aren't going to accept me, that's fine. If the girl I have a crush on is going to compete against me using my own culture, that's fine too. But I'm tired of being ashamed. My choice is clearly laid out in front of me. I'm going to choose me. And I'm going to beat Flávia.

i want to think that’s just something girls do — that it means nothing. but i’m pretty sure the way she looks at me is not the way friends look at each other. [...] she’s inching forward. is there a heterosexual explanation for why she’s inching forward ?

« i promise to love you the most, no matter what. even when we’re old and disheveled and dying and you’re somehow more annoying than you already are. i’ll still love you. »

« i don’t have a type, » i say, and it’s true; i’ve never really thought about having a type. i guess my type is... beautiful girls. which is a lot of them. most of them ? pretty much all girls.

she catches my eyes, and for a moment it’s just the two of us taking each other in from across the wedding hall. if i didn’t know better i would call it my own bollywood moment.

« you know how Sunny Apu is going to marry Abir Bhaiya ? » i try again. [...] « well i think in the future i won’t want to marry a boy at all. i think i’ll want to marry a girl instead. »