David Levithan is the author of many acclaimed novels, including Boy Meets Boy, the
NewYork Times bestselling Will Grayson, Will Grayson
(with John Green), and Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist
(with Rachel Cohn), which was adapted into a popular
movie. He is also an editorial director at Scholastic in
New York. David lives in New Jersey.
THE
LOVER'S
DICTIONARY
DAVID LEVITHAN
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Copyright © David Levithan 2011 The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright above, no part of this publication shall be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
Originally published in 2011 by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York This edition published by The Text Publishing Company 2011
Cover design by W. H. Chong Text design by Jonathan D. Lippincott
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry Author: Levithan, David.
Title: The lover’s dictionary / David Levithan.
ISBN: 9781921656910 (pbk.)
Dewey Number: 813.6
For my parents, with gratitude and wonder
Contents
A B C D E F G H I
J K L M N O P
Q
R S T U V W X Y Z
acknowledgments
A
aberrant, adj.
“I don’t normally do this kind of thing,” you said. “Neither do I,” I assured you.
Later it turned out we had both met people online before, and we had both slept with people on first dates before, and we had both found ourselves falling too fast before. But we comforted ourselves with what we really meant to say, which was: “I don’t normally feel this good about what I’m doing.”
Measure the hope of that moment, that feeling. Everything else will be measured against it.
abstain, v.
I’m sorry I was so surprised you didn’t drink that night.
“Is something wrong?” I asked. It wasn’t like you to turn down a drink after work.
“Go ahead,” you said. “Drink for both of us.”
So I ordered two Manhattans. I didn’t know whether to offer you a sip. I didn’t know if it could be this easy to get you, for once, to stop.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
After a dramatic pause, you said, totally serious, “I’m pregnant.” And then you cracked up.
