The old pull, the tide drawing me back in. I kept getting caught in this current-- first love, I mean. First love kept making me come back to this, to him. He still took my breath away, just being near him. I had been lying to myself the night before, thinking I was free, thinking I had let him go. It didn't matter what he said or did, I'd never let him go.
- Jenny Han, The Summer I Turned Pretty