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She didn't understand how other people did it, how they just strolled right up to strangers and started conversations -- how they made themselves into people strangers would ever want to meet. She wasn't shy, not exactly. She was afraid.

She stood awkwardly for another endless moment -- a total and obvious outsider, even though this was her house where she lived. It felt like she didn't belong anywhere. It felt like she probably never would.

It occurred to her to wonder if this was what growing up meant, to continuously find yourself in situations that you didn't feel remotely prepared to handle.

God, the only thing worse than having a panic attack was trying to have one in secret while someone else was watching.

The thing about hiding out like this was that it did get boring, every once in a while. It occurred to Gabby to wonder if possibly she was missing something great. For all her bravado, it bothered her sometimes, that she couldn't make herself do what seemed to come so naturally to everyone else.

If you liked being alone all the time, that would be one thing. But I don't actually think you do. I think you're just letting yourself be scared.