Well, here we go again.
We begin the chapter with Ever choosing a sweatshirt to wear. You’d think she’d wear something else considering she has other stuff, but no. We have got to remember that she’s the traumatised speshul heroine that’s all delicate and moody and broody and totally not attractive.
I literally have no idea what the fuck happened in the last chapter, nor do I care. It was long-winded, it made no sense, I didn’t care about anything Noël said, the characters somehow became out-of-character (how does that even work? It’s her own novel!) and we didn’t really learn anything except for the fact that Damen is perfect in every concievable aspect of the word.
Fuck my life.
“I’m not wearing makeup,” I say, cringing as my voice nears a shout.
Good heavens no, we can’t have that now, can we? We can’t really expect her to actually try and… care about the way she looks! That’s ridiculous! We all know that the Sue won’t put makeup on, she won’t really wear anything but jeans and a raggedy sweatshirt and the whole world will still fall on its ass after taking one look at her. I know, I know, I’ve seen all this shit before.
It’s not surprising. These characters, the ones that appear in a lot of similar YA novels, seem to have been cloned. Or at least made from a mold so that they’re all the same. Maybe it’s the first-person narration.
Wondering if he liked you back, and bippidy-blah blah.
Are we going to get a bunch of chapters of Ever wangsting about how she’s hideous and that Damen will never ‘lurve’ her? But then she realizes that he does, and then he realizes that he does, which ends up with both of them spouting a whole bunch of bullshit about their supposed affection for each other, leaving me still attempting to find a single fuck to give. This is harder than it looks!
That last part of the sentence was a pure WTF moment as well.
an image of Damen flashes before me, looking so gorgeous, so sexy, so smoldering, so palpable,
She’s forgotten her meds again. NURSE WE NEED TO UP THE DOSAGE ON THIS ONE
But when I see Damen talking to Stacia, I add paranoid to the already long list.
If you’re as shitty as you keep telling us you are, you might as well give up now since there’s no fucking way he’s going to end up with you. That is, if this book was actually written well. We all know it’s not.
“Um, excuse me,” I say; blocked by Damen’s gloriously long legs, which are taking the place of her usual booby trap.
Something tells me I need coffee. Or a vacation.
Okay, so Damen’s at Stacia’s desk and then gives her a flower. Ever’s pissed. Damen’s a dick. HA! You didn’t think I’d see this coming, did you Noël?! Well I did!
“What the Jug?” Haven says,
“What the fuck?” I said, unable to believe this actually got through editing.
Miles shakes his head and gazes at Damen, watching him wow the A-list with his natural charm, magic pen, and stupid fugging rosebuds.
Why do you have to gaze? That’s it, I diagnose everybody in this book with an eye disorder. Stupid fugging book.
I don’t want to do this anymore. But I will, since it’s fun in a horrible, creepy way.
Because the truth is, that’s just Damen. He’s a player. And he does this all the time.
Why did it take you so long to figure this out?
I gaze across the lunch tables, just in time to see Damen compile an entire bouquet of white rosebuds from Stacia’s ear, sleeve, cleavage, and purse.
I dislike this sentence. Plus, he reaches into her cleavage? Goddamn. Oh, Ever thought that she was special? Haha nope. Glad she got shot down like this, but I hate the fact that she’ll end up with this dick anyway. She’s moody now, but you just wait.
So, let me just cut this short again, since Noël is unable to write a concise scene. It must always be drawn out pointlessly and accomplish nothing at the end. A pretty stupid way to write, if you ask me.
We learn that Ever is pissed about Damen messing around with Stacia (made evident by her internal monologue). She wants to get out of art, but goes anyway since:
it’s the right thing to do.
Okay then. She gets there and sees a note with ‘Stacia’ scrawled on it stuck on an easel, then gets all moody and throws her paintbrush onto the ground. Once art class finishes, she leaves and then checks the note again but now it says
‘Ever’. She opens it up and then sees that it’s a drawing of a tulip.
There. Was it that hard to write it concisely without all unnecessary adornments? No, it wasn’t.