Not Your Sidekick

The only time she's come close to being "known" was when she accidentally came out as bisexual during sophomore English class while talking about her favorite poem.

We can't just sit on our asses and not live our lives while we're trying to expose a corrupt government.

You love me," Abby says, smiling. Jess leans forward. "Yeah, I really do. This isn't our Romeo and Juliet moment. You're going to be okay. No one is dying. "No, it's the end. I want a goodbye kiss.

should tell you, the job description was super-vague and that I am probably not at all qualified to do any technical stuff. I made something explode in chemistry last year.

She's given up trying to stand out.

The Smashmobile is driver-operated, and she’s qualified to drive it, but only in case of emergency. Claudia

It's old-school to write by hand, but Jess likes the way the words blossom under her fingertips [. . .] These scribblings and imaginings are for no one else.

Jess is painfully aware of how young she is. Her shirtsleeves don't quite extend to her wrists; after a growth spurt last summer, her debate clothes don't fit as well as she thought. She feels as if she's playing dress-up.

She looks great in that skirt. Her butt is so cute.

Maybe Jess was caught up with these ridiculous, impossible ideas because it meant she never had to try for something real.

What's the best way to say because it's too embarrassing to talk to a crush about sex and read an explicit thing they wrote while they're right there?

Jess is too big for her skin, as if she might float away in the exhilarating possibility of the moment.