"Do you think we enjoy hearing about your brand-new million-dollar home when we can barely afford to eat Kraft Dinner sandwiches in our own grimy little shoe boxes and we're pushing thirty? A home you won in a genetic lottery, I might add, sheerly by dint of your having been born at the right time in history? You'd last about ten minutes if you were my age these days."

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You could call him," Wes suggests. "Why be a spectator in the game of love? Take charge. Don't wait around and let the boy call all the shots." "As cheesy as all of that sounds," Kimmie adds. "Cheese or not,I know what I'm talking about." He sulks. "I've lived it. I've learned it." Kimmie lets out a laugh. "With who,Romeo? That Wendy girl you paid to date you?" "Oh, and because I don't have a dating history as big as your mouth, it doesn't quite measure up?" "I hate to break this to you, but that isn't the only thing of yours that doesn't measure up." "Wouldn't you like to know?" He grins.

— Laurie Faria Stolarz