Leah Rae Miller · 267 pages
Rating: (9.9K votes)
“I can't swallow another drop of soda by this point because the carbonation is burning my throat.
"Oh really? Well..." I trail off as I feel bubbling at the base of my throat. This is not good.
Before I can stop myself, I let out the biggest burp I've ever, ever, ever had. I slap a hand over my mouth and stare at Logan whose eyebrows have reached astronomical heights.
"Dude! So not smooth, man! Girls cannot stand rudeness," Dan yells from the back room.”
“But you can make you happy, my father's voice repeats over and over as I stare at my ceiling.
Have I been trying to do that all this time? Has that other part of me been trying to break through because deep down I know I'll never be happy until... Until what? Until I'm able to freely discuss who I think would win in a battle between Darth Vader and Lord Voldemort? (The answear obviously being Lord Voldemort. He'd Avada Kadavra Vader way before Vader could even think about the force choke move.)”
“It's Christmas! You just got your Hogwarts acceptance letter, a copy of Action Comics #1, and a brand new car that runs on water!”
“Be true to yourself and others will be true to you, too.”
“I'm a geeky badass, and I'm loving it.”
“People are going to judge you for all kinds of reasons for the rest of your life. Because you vote one way or the other, because you go to one school or the other, because you look a certain way. It’s a fact of life: you can’t make everyone happy. But you can make you happy”
“Well, excuse the hell out of me for trying to help. I heard a crash and thought someone was hurt. You could’ve fallen. On a pair of Scissors. Slit your jugular. How was I to know? Next time you’re in need of life saving action, don’t come to me…’Dan, help me, I’ve broken my spleen,’ because you know what I’m going to say? ‘Sorry about the spleen, dude, I have to stay in the back room for all of eternity.”
“What has she eaten to be so awake this early, and where can I get some of this magical substance?”
“He's wearing black jeans and an amazingly hot black biker jacket over a white T-shirt.His normally casual bedhead is not perfectly styled bedhead. He also has light blue skin, but his tattoo are understated, just dots in a straight line that go ear from ear, crossing the bridge of his nose. He props himself against the doorway, and my head goes blank.
"I like the viney things you have going on there."
I clear my throat because it has suddenly gone dry.
"Thanks. You look very..." I trail off because i almost said elf-a-licious”
“Do I "really like" him? Is that the right way to put it? I've only known him for the summer technically, but "really like" doesn't seem to encompass it. If you "really like" someone, do they insist on invading your every thought? Does just saying their name make goose bumps rise on your arms? Do you contemplate how many freckles your children will have?”
“I know I'm just an accessory to him, but what he doesn't realize is he's just a handbag to me, too.”
“I'm scared of the geese. When I was five, my mom took me down there to feed those horrible beasts and one of them nearly took my hand off.”
“. You can’t spend your life being afraid of what other people think”
“This is Louisiana, we don't have basements because of the water level.”
“It’s like my dear old MeeMaw always says, ‘You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.”
“Are you sure? I know you’re all grown up, but you’re still only seventeen. There are a lot of fish in the sea,” he says as we pull into the driveway.
“I know, but I really like this fish.”
“No gaming outside of the venue without a sanctioned game master.”
“It was fine.” I’m getting real tired of that word. It’s a nothing word, and when people say it, it never really means what it’s supposed to.”
“Oh, yeah, looks like things have been super easy for you this far. Look, high school is hell for most people. It’s one of the many facts of life. But I had friends. I was happy with who I was, and I’m happy with who I am now.”
“Do you really like him?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“I really, really like him.”
“Wow, that’s a lot. Okay, I’ll help, but only because Logan still really, really likes you, too.”
“Did you just blackmail the game master?”
She shrugs. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
“That’s ridiculous, Roland,” Mom says. “This is Louisiana, we don’t have basements because of the water level.”
“What if the girls on the squad realize I swoon over Peter Parker or that I secretly wish our uniforms included a cape”
“It was like the kid was getting a BB gun for Christmas when you walked in there.”
“That’s because it is stupid, Maddie. And that’s not even the worst of it. Did you ever consider that maybe you aren’t the center of the world? That maybe, just maybe, I have crap going on, too? Crap that I should be able to talk to my best friend about? But have I been able to talk to you about it? No, because you won’t answer your phone or return my calls. Because apparently, you’ve been off committing social suicide by dumping Eric. I mean, who does junk like that? Only you, Maddie, only you.”
“Dude, you know I'm not getting paid for this shit, which is probably against the law. Child labor going on right here in the heartland of America!
-Dan Garrett”
“I don’t know how many times I’ve driven by here and almost rear-ended someone because I was trying to ogle the newest life-size cardboard cutout of Wolverine or Captain America or whoever.”
“I plaster my face to the glass. Who cares about germs when giant sparkly heart earrings are at stake?”
“Gah, yes! 'I really, really like her.' That's what he said when him and Dan were over here and Logan was being all mopey and Dan asked him why he was even still thinking about you. Now I know what Dan is talking about all the time. High school girls are seriously crazy.”
“Vera and Moira are cuddled up on the couch, both in frilly, pink, little-girl nightgowns.
“Hey, Maddie, you want to watch Miss Lovey’s Luminous Leggings with us?” Vera asks.
Dear Lord, yes. Yes, I would love to do anything other than what I’m about to do.
“Sorry, I have plans. Remember?” I wink at her.
“Right, right, right. Have fun storming the castle!” She waves.”
“Sometimes, when you are reading a book you are enjoying very much, you begin thinking so hard about the characters and the story that you might forget all about the author, even if he is in grave danger and would very much appreciate your help. The same thing can happen if you are looking at a photograph. You might think so hard about whatever is in the photograph that you forget all about the person behind the camera.”
“In the fall the war was always there, but we did not go to it anymore.”
“Humans were peculiar. They were by turns squeamish and appallingly violent.”
“It pursues a divide-and-conquer strategy: single versus married women, working women versus homemakers, middle-versus working-class. It manipulates a system of rewards and punishments, elevating women who follow its rules, isolating those who don’t. The backlash remarkets old myths about women as new facts and ignores all appeals to reason. Cornered, it denies its own existence, points an accusatory finger at feminism, and burrows deeper underground. Backlash”
“Writing is a kind of repository and can help create a space for the accommodation of new thoughts and feelings. If you don't write these stories down, your heart will be filled up and broken by them.”
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