My Mechanical Romance

The world is not very helpful to a smart girl. More often it will try to force you inside a box. But I urge you not to listen.

It's a lot. Trying all the time. Trying not to screw up, just makes me feel so tired. There's all this pressure to plan for a future, you know? And like, what future?

It's really, really hard to recognize someone as the villain in someone else's life when you're pretty sure you love them both.

You're such a nerd." "Oh, I know. My mom tells me all the time, but apparently nerds are hot now.

They definitely don’t mean the version whose Spotify is currently paused on Taylor Swift’s entire discography so he can learn all the words that make her smile, even when she doesn’t want to. Especially then.

There’s the faintest glow from the streetlight outside on her hair, and she smells like sawdust and strawberry lip balm and for a second, I really don’t care what happens next. I start to understand why I got so pissed when Dash asked her to homecoming, and why I was so upset when she didn’t ask for my help with our Regionals bot, and why I sprint out of practice every day just to stand next to her and poke around at wires. I get why I asked her to come to a kids’ soccer game with me and why I bought her that silly little drawer knob in the shape of a bird. I get why it matters to me that she’s hurting. Because I think about her all the time. Because she surprises me, because she makes me laugh, and because this, whatever it is with her, is the only thing I ever do that’s easy. Because wherever I am, I want her close by.

You don’t have to make the world perfect just so people will love you,

Always best to look stupid in private, in my opinion.

I’m only good when I’m with you, Teo,” I say, and then, because it’s so pathetically true, I swallow hard. “I’m at my best when I’m with you.

The world is not very helpful to a smart girl,” says Ms. Voss. “More often it will try to force you inside a box. But I urge you not to listen.

He smiles, and I know that win or lose, Teo Luna and I are made of a strong foundation. What he and I have together is the best thing we’ve ever built.

Everyone at this school has plans, and then they want me to have plans, and I’m just so overwhelmed by their good intentions that I constantly feel the need to lie down for a solid five minutes before trying again.

I should not be wasting my time on high school boys when I was clearly born to be some artist's muse, which is a calling I will probably age into around my late twenties.

So all I can do is miss him, even though he’s right there in front of my face.

There's no such thing as a mind for one subject or another. You have a mind that works, and works well. So use it.

I wish I could say it doesn’t bother me to hear Richardson mock us for being girls, but it’s totally frustrating. Not because it’s wrong—which it is—but because it’s exactly the sort of thing that prevents most girls from trying. The girls who get ahead are the ones who can let stuff like that just roll off their backs, but that’s not the easiest thing in the world to do. There’s a lot more kinds of strength than just being outwardly tough, and it’s a lot to ask of anyone to succeed when most people in the room are waiting to see you fail.

We all know the male ego is notoriously fragile. Even the cute ones are a lost cause,” she points out with a lamenting sip, reminding us that she does not like boys. (She’s just unfortunately attracted to them.)

It’s probably really stupid how much it unravels me to look at her right then, but I’ve never seen eyes that make me think about the mysteries of the universe the way hers do. It’s like walking through the redwoods. Like feeling the earth beneath your feet while knowing there are things flying free above you, and things living and breathing below you, and for a moment you just feel connected to everything. Like there’s some sort of unstoppable tide of existence and you’re part of it, even for just a second.

he smells like clean laundry and summer and I hate it. I hate all of it.

Are you into opera or something?” “Sometimes,” she says with a shrug. “I don’t really like to close the door on anything. There’s something interesting about most things, I think.

I like Taylor Swift, too. I’m human, after all.

I promise I'll still like you, even if I ever have a problem you can't fix.

If I'm pushing you into something that you have no passion for, Isabel, then tell me so. But if you're only hesitating because you have doubts in your abilities, then let me ask you, sincerely, to take a risk.

honestly? physics is easy. what's hard is feeling like i want to be invisible all the time.

I’ve always believed that there’s a possibility for everything in the world to collide for a single perfect moment, and that sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get to have one for yourself. This one is ours.

I’m pretty sure she and I are both considering how nothing definitive comes easily to her. She told me once that she never understood how people could be so certain about their futures, or about anything, but now she sounds sure about this. She looks it, too.

(I don’t understand the origins of most rap feuds, but they strike me as mildly poetic? It’s all very distantly Shakespearean to me; blood wars and betrayal and stuff...which is totally beside the point.)

It’s all very La La Land, which is a movie I once had to explain to my mother. (“The story was always about their dreams,” I told her while she cried over lost love.)

No, no, it’s a good thing,” Jamie rushes to assure me. “Like… you’re new, you know? You’re this new color I didn’t know existed and now I see it everywhere and I’m like, thank god I can see it now. Such a bummer if I never did.” It strikes me as the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, so instead of answering, I pull Jamie in with one hand, tucking the other around Lora.

Oh, thanks, girl.” I lift my fist for a bump. “I like your jeans,” she tells me shyly. “Thanks.” I glance up at the blue team’s driver, who shrugs. “She didn’t think girls built robots,” he explains. “Oh, well they do,” I tell her firmly. My team is dragging me away to make repairs and get ready for our next fight, but I figure it’s a good time for some wisdom. “I mean come on, boys can do it,” I call out to her. “So how hard can it be?” Okay, so it wasn’t wise and the blue team driver rolls his eyes, but hey. His sister smiles brilliantly, and I think that maybe if Neelam and I helped one girl believe she could do it—and that girl helps another girl—and then that girl helps someone— I glance over my shoulder to where Jamie and Lora are sitting with Ms. Voss, who holds up a glittery sign in my direction. WHO RUN THE WORLD?