"Ryan," I bleated. "I'm sorry." I wanted to tell him everything, tell him that he wasn't the only one who'd done something despicable. Part of me wanted him to know how I'd kissed David and then come back and slept in his bed like nothing had happened. How I was just as disgusted with myself, if not more, than I was by what he had done. But watching him break down, I knew there was no point. I'd only hurt him more. 
 Oh, boo fucking hoo. I have so much sympathy for a cheater. 
 This book is about a stupid high school girl who gets hysterical over everything, who hates every other girl in the book for being boy-crazy bitches while being involved in a love triangle with her One Twoo Wuv, David, who is a supreme player. 
 I turned my head, swiping furiously at my tears. "I guess I should've figured it out somewhere between Amy Heffernan and Isabel Rose." 
 "Kelse." David's hand covered my cheek, turning my face back toward him. "They don't matter to me. They never did." 
 "Really? Then which one did you sleep with? Or was it both?" 
 And cheats on her boyfriend. 
 In every YA story, in order to be realistic, we have to like and relate to the main character. I can't find a thing about the main character that's likeable. She inflates every situation, and blows everything out of proportion. She is clumsy, foolish, her dialogue isn't so much "she said" as "she cried" because she seems to make a big deal out of every tiny little situation. She's clumsy? EVERYONE IS LAUGHING AT HER AND OUT TO GET HER. Her hysteria makes everything worse, and I can't find it in myself to feel any sort of sympathy for her situation. 
 Honestly, I can't even keep track of who's dating who in this book. There's so much petty jealousy, so much crying and wailing and overdramatic exclamations over silly little relationship drama without any true emotion. 
 "Why are you still seeing Isabel?" 
 David's head whipped toward me. "What?" 
 "Isabel. Why are you still hanging out with her? If she never mattered to you, and if I was the one you wanted to go to the dance with, and if you never would have bothered with her if you'd known what a bitch she was, then why are you still bothering?" 
 He stared at me with a confused look on his face. "Who said I'm still seeing Isabel?" 
 "Why else would you go back to Connecticut? Are you cheating on Violet?" 
 There is so much girl-on-girl hate in this book, Kelsey thinks every girl in the entire book is a boy-crazy ho. She constantly demeans other girls, and there is no other female character other than the stereotypical Mean Girl in this book...other than her best friend and sister, both of whom she blissfully ignores. Every girl is portrayed as a dumb, bouncy bitch who would talk trash. 
 "She has a mustache," Isabel's friend said with a shudder. "There're, like, things you can do for that. Fucking do it already." 
 "And she's a moron." Isabel stopped texting long enough to wave her hand in disgust. "I've heard the place you're conceived affects the person you become. Her parents must've done it on a toilet bowl, because she's dumb as shit." 
 And it's not like Kelsey is any difference. 
 She and her friends practically hissed at me every time we passed in the halls. In return, I called her Sloppy Ho behind her back. 
 She constantly and consistently blames other girls for having the hots for the guys she likes, shaming them, making them seem like slutty bitches for their interest. The guys are never mentioned because surely it's not their fault they're just too attractive for their own good. 
 No wonder girls like Amy Heffernan and Isabel Rose turned into doe-eyed tramps around him. 
 I knew what she was doing. Trying to wind her slimy tentacles around him and pull herself back into his good graces. Again. 
 "Hey, David," Isabel said with an unmistakably flirtatious lilt. I pretended to brush off the sled as I rolled my eyes. Ever since things with David and Amy had cooled, Isabel had been eyeing him the way a hungry vulture eyes fresh roadkill. Apparently she'd chosen her moment to swoop in for dinner. 
 This was an awful, headache-inducing book without a single moment of pleasure.