Gabe's still got his palm on my knee. He squeezes a bit, then slides his hand farther over, fingertips picking at the seam on the inner thigh of my jeans. 
 That's when Patrick nudges his leg against mine. My breath comes fast and ragged all of a sudden, and I concentrate on slowing it down so nobody will hear. 
 The worst part is I can feel myself responding in other ways also, the low swoop of want in my stomach and the skin all over my body tightening up--and I don't even know who I'm responding to. What is up with me, how messed up am I, that I think it might be both of them? 
 I would recommend this book if you're really into brother-brother love triangles, cheating, and repeatedly making the same mistakes. The only reason this book didn't receive a 1 from me is that it was well-written, the characters felt real, and I did have some serious sympathy for the main character initially. Halfway through, this all changed and I wanted to bash my head against the wall. You know the saying about learning from history? This never, ever happened in this book. 
 Cheating is a touchy issue. It's taboo, certainly, but people do make mistakes. The important thing is that mistakes should be a learning experience in order for the main character to be a better person. The main character in this book cheats. She suffers from the consequences, but she never expresses any true regret about the fact that she cheated. For her, the people involved are almost interchangeable. If one isn't available: go after the other one. Rinse, repeat. That is what I cannot forgive. 
 The main character is incredibly selfish, incredibly self-centered. Whatever sympathy I had (and I had a lot) for her disappeared in the second half of the book. 
 There is good reason to be sympathetic for 17-year old Molly. Her mom, a famous author, wrote a book about her. That would be an invasion of its own, but what's worse is that the book is about when Molly cheated on her boyfriend Patrick with his big brother, Gabe. Now Molly is the town pariah. She wears a scarlet letter. Everyone knows that she cheated. Everyone talks about her behind her back. There is outright antipathy towards her, notes left for her calling her a slut, and worse. 
 I think of the note on my windshield--dirty slut--and feel my skin prickle hotly, imagining everyone here somehow saw it, too, or wrote it or is thinking it even if they didn't do either of those things. This is what it was like before I left. Julia once called my house phone and left a message, pretending to be from Planned Parenthood saying my STD test had come back positive. 
 There is a definite sense of double standards here, because the other party in the affair, her boyfriend's big brother, doesn't get much negative attention at all. 
 "It feels unfair, though, right?" Gabe says. "I mean, if you're a dirty slut, then I'm a dirty slut." 
 What bothers me about this is that, while Molly acknowledges she broke her childhood friend, her first love, her first boyfriend's heart...with his big brother, she never really truly feels bad about any of it. 
 "Patrick Donnelly?" she says, the affection palpable in her voice, the way you talk about your favorite song or movie or person. "Why, you know him?" 
 He was my best friend. He was my first love. I had sex with his big brother. I broke his fucking heart. 
 Yes, she acknowledges that she broke his heart, but there is no real remorse. Her sadness is more due to the fact that she is hated by everyone more than anything dealing with the fact that she cheated. Once things go back to normal...once she begins to get back into her friend's good graces...she shows too clearly that cheaters will continue to cheat and a leopard can't change its stripes. 
 "You love me, and you care about me." Patrick snorts. "Okay." 
 "I do!" I protest, stung by the dismissal. "Why the hell else would I have done what I did with you all summer, huh? Why would I have risked hurting Gabe like that--?" 
 "I don't know; why did you do it last time?" Patrick demands. "Because you like the attention. That's what it is with you. You're a poison, you want--" 
 Molly continues to hurt people over and over and over again. She can't make up her mind. 
 And Gabe on her heels: "What's going on?" he asks. 
 Patrick focuses his reply on his brother: "Why don't you ask your girlfriend?" he suggests nastily. "And while you're at it, why don't you ask her what the fuck else she's been doing, the whole time she's been fucking you?" 
 This book was a mine of unexplored potential. It had such potential to be a fantastic book. I wanted to see more character development, the relationship between Molly and her mother, in particular. That could have been developed more than it did. Her mother is callous, not intentionally hurtful, but severely insensitive. I wanted to see more of them, and I didn't get much. 
 "You're my mom!" I counter, my voice cracking in a way that betrays all the nasty coldness I've spent the last year and a half cultivating, an ugly break in the shell. I shake my head, slam the coffeepot down on the counter hard enough I'm afraid it might shatter. "Or, like--you were supposed to be. You chose me, remember? That's what you always said. But really you just wanted to sell me for parts." 
 My mom blanches at that, or maybe I just want her to. "Molly--" 
 What a waste of an interesting concept.