[...] The spring of his sophomore year, he began to read from feverish loneliness, a loneliness he began to fear would be permanent. After all, if someone like him, wasn't happy in college, where and when would he be happy? His disappointment and isolation made him bitter, and he judged the world around him harshly, with the too-broad strokes of a crank. [...]

[...] People instinctively wanted her approval. Between this authoritative air and her sunny good looks, Kristen was, in the world's crude judgment, a catch for Nate, several notches above him in the college social hierarchy. [...]

Nate felt not only glad but vindicated, as if a long-running argument had finally been settled in his favor. His unpopularity, though persistent, had never seemed quite right. He was not and had never been a nervous, nebbishy sort; his interest in science fiction, never very intense, had peaked at age thirteen. He had always been a rather well-disposed and agreeable sort of person, if he said so himself.

He knew he'd trul arrived when he began dating Elisa [...] Water, as they say, eventually finds its level.

Nate remembered something else: the belief that success was something that just happened to you, that you just did your thing, and if you were deserving, it was bestowed by the same invisible hand that ensured that the deli would have milk to drink and sandwiches to buy. Wouldn't that be nice? Nate sometimes envied people less clear-sighted, people so seduced by success itself that their enthusiasm for successful people was wholly genuine. [...]

[...] He had wondered if everybody took the quality they had and treated it as the most important thing - used it as a basis for feeling superior to others.

So it hardly seemed to matter that she was not a particularly nice girlfriend. Unless they coincided with hers, Elisa treated his desires as perverse whims, wholly negligible. An expensive restaurant she liked was a healthy indulgence; his craving for barbecue was "disgusting." A somewhat down-market local barbecue chain he especially liked? "Out of the question." After social engagements, she enjoyed regaling him with a list of criticisms of his behavior. She seemed to think that everything he did was first and foremost a reflection on her. [...]

[...] She had been spoiled by her good looks and good fortune; she lacked inner resources; she was petulant and childish when things didn't go her way. [...]

[...] He hated that being passed over in favor of Eugene bothered him as much as it did. It suggested a pettiness and an insecurity that he associated with mediocrity. It was not exactly the light in which he wanted Hannah, who was nobody's fool, to see him. Besides, between the two of them, he had always played the role of the more successful writer. He had been the one to champion her work, to build her up. For their roles to be reversed, even temporarily, would only add to his sense of indignity.

The issue seemed, to him, to be have been resolved, but they continued to talk for a while longer. This didn't really surprise him. In his experience, women, once they got started, exhibited a rather insatiable desire to confess, elaborate, iron out, reveal, and so on and so forth. [...]

"It's fine," he said in the kind of cold, flat voice that only someone with serious Asperger's would take at face value.

Hannah's expression indicated to Nate that she did not suffer from Asperger's syndrome.

Nate looked away, a little repelled by the near panic he'd seen on her face. He was also afraid that if he looked at her, he'd feel bad and apologize, and he didn't want to feel bad or apologize. [...]