Lisi Harrison

“I’m not acting!” shouted Cleo. She was in desperate need of more gloss.”

“And for a split second Cleo saw the value in living openly. Liberation was Windex for the soul. It let the light shine through. But why dwell? Nothing was ever going to change.”

“O Hathor,” Cleo began, “why bless me with an abundance of gorgeousness and then deprive me of people to envy it? Especially on a Saturday night?”

“A burrito is a delicious food item that breaks down all social barriers and leads to temporary spiritual enlightenment.”

“Anyway, no guy wants to be with a girl if she's not into him. So you did him a favor.”

“The hardest thing about being a parent is watching your kids make mistakes. Our instinct is to protect you. But you're right, Deenie. Sometimes we have to step aside and let you make them anyway. The best we can do is be there when you mess up.”

“What's wrong with mistakes? Not that I'd know. No one's ever let me make any.”

“Ignorance is bliss was bull. Melody had been ignorant her whole life, and things were far from blissful. It was time to give knowledge is power a try.”

“I know when I'm not wanted," joked Uncle Vlad. "Guess I'll make like under-eye cream and get the bags.”

“What was it about high school that made people think with their insecurities instead of their brains?”

“Insane was probably the right word, but Clawdeen preferred determined.”

“Candace nodded a little too hard. She loved making her ponytail swing.”

“Like Martin Luther King Jr., Frankie dreamed of living in a nation where people would not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. The sonner she realized that dream, the sooner she could get started on Katy Perry's and live the teenage one.”

“Blame was a luxury they could no longer afford.”

“Lightning snapped the night sky like a jock’s gym towel on a dork’s butt.”

“The Pretty Committee:the only thing harder thangetting in, is staying in.”

“LBRGLU”

“Now we are even.”

“Do I look like a Jonas Brother? Then why is everyone waiting for me to lose it?”

“Is my name V?No...Then why would I follow U?”

“We're doing the Twyla, not Twilight, so stop sucking!”

“Loser loserDouble loserwhateveras ifget the pictureDUH!”

“Do you play football for Pittsburgh? Then why are you such a Steeler?!”

“These girls want nothing to do with last season's clothes.”

“All that I know is that Claire Lyons should consider herself done, done and you know what else?DONE!”

“Bean, what's one step worse then a fashion don't?....a fashion don't even THINK about it.”

“If at first you don't succeed, You're not an Alpha”

“Claire, did I invite you to my BBQ?" "No.""Then why are you up in my grill?”

“sodoyouthinkyoucouldtrustmetogotothedancetonight?" she blurted before losing her nerve. Viktor and Viveka exchanged a quick glance.Are they considering it? They are! They trust -"No," they said together. Frankie resisted the urge to spark. Or scream. Or threaten to go on a charging strike. She had prepared herself for this. It had always been a possibility. That's why she'd read 'Acting For Young Actors: The Ultimate Teenage Guide' by Mary Lou Belli and Dihah Lenney. So she could act like she understood their rejection. Act like she accepted it. And act like she would return to her room with grace. "Well, thanks for hearing me out," she said, kissing them on the cheeks and skipping off to bed. "Good night.""Good night?" Viktor responded. "That's it? No argument?""No argument," Frankie said with a sweet smile. "You have to see this punishment through or you're not teaching me anything. I get it.""O-kay." Viktor returned to his medical journal, shaking his head as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing."We love you." Viveka blew another kiss."I love you, too." Frankie blew two back.Time for Plan B.”

“This isn't going to be pretty. Rules will be broken. Friendships will be tested. And huge risks will be taken. But they're small prices to pay for true love and freedom, right?”

“No, I'm serious," Frankie insisted, fed up with being silenced. "Why didn't you just make me a normie?"Viktor sighed. "Because that's not who we are. We're special. And I'm very proud that. You should be, too.""Proud?" Frankie spat out the word as if it had been soaked in nail polish remover. "How can I be proud when everyone is telling me to hide?""I'm telling you to hide so you'll be safe. But you can still feel proud of who you are," he explained, like it really was that simple. "Pride has to come from within you and stay with you, no matter what people say."Huh?Frankie crossed her arms and looked away.”

“Question.""Yes," Candace asked expectantly, eyes fixed on the dark street ahead."Have you ever had to chose sides between a friend and a boyfriend?"Candace nodded."Which side are you suppose to pick?""The right one.""What if they're both right?""They're not.""But they are," Melody insisted. "That's the problem.""No." Candace slowly rolled past a police cruiser. "They both think they're right. But who do you think is right? Which side represents the thing you think is worth fighting for?"Melody glanced out the window as though she was expecting the answer to be revealed on a neighbor's lawn. Every house except hers had the lights turned off. "I dunno.""You do," Candace insisted. "You just don't have the courage to be honest with yourself. Because then you'd have to do the thing you don't want to do, and you hate doing anything that's hard. Which is why you gave up singing and why you have no life and why you've always been a -""Um okay! Can we get back to the part where you were sounding like Oprah?""I'm just saying, Melly, what would you do if you weren't afraid? That's your answer. That's your side." She turned into the circular driveway and put the SUV in PARK. "And if you don't choose it, you're lying to yourself and everyone around you." She opened the door and grabbed her purse. "Oprah out!"The door slammed behind her.”

“Are you a female dog?""What?" Massie asked. "Why?""Because you are acting like a real bitch!”

“One by one, drops fell from her eyes like they were on an assembly line - gather, fall, slide...gather, fall, slide...each one commemorating something she had lost. Hope. Faith. Confidence. Pride. Security. Trust. Independence. Joy. Beauty. Freedom. Innocence.”

“The articles were extremely eye-opening. Not just in Teen Vogue but in Seventeen and CosmoGirl as well. They were all about being yourself, staying natural, loving your body as is, and going green! The messages were the exact opposite of Vik and Viv's.Hmmmmm. Frankie turned to face the full-length mirror that was up against the yellow wardrobe. She opened her robe and examined her body. Fit, muscular, and exquisitely proportioned, she agreed with the magazines. So what if her skin was mint? Or her limbs were attached with seams? According to the magazines, which were - no offense! - way more in touch with the times than her parents were, she was suppose to love her body just the way it was. And she did! Therefor if the normies read magazines (which obviously they did, because they were in them), then they would love her, too. Natural was in.Besides she was Daddy's perfect little girl. And who didn't love perfect?”

“Wearing nothing but sweats and a sheer coat of lip gloss, she wiggle through her frosted window and jumped six feet to freedom, feeling more charged than a Visa card at Christmas time.”

“She raced for him, propelled by the strength of a thousand regrets.”

“After each dream, Frankie woke with a start, soaked in tears. But she found no relief in the peaceful silence of her room, because there everything was real. And the guilt was too immense to bear. Each time she opened her eyes, she'd quickly shut them. And wish that she had woken up for the very last time.”

“Bekka treated her role has Frankenstein's bride more like an audition to be Brett's bride. Every part of her body had been colored bright kelly green - even parts that her mother had stressed were 'not to be seen by anyone except God and the inside of a toilet bowl.' Instead of wearing a wig, Bekka had teased and then shellacked her own hair into a windblown cone and she'd used female-mustache bleach to create white streaks. Her seams, made of real suture thread, had been attached to her neck and wrists with clear double-sided costume tape because drawing them on with kohl would not have been 'honoring the character.' Her Costume Castle dress had been exchanged for something 'more authentic' from the Bridal Barn. If Brett didn't see his future in her heavily black-shadowed eyes tonight, he never would. Or so she believed.”

“This is our big chance to see what people think of us. The real us. We have to show em there's nothing to be afraid of. If we don't get over our fears, they never will.”

“The confusing lesson whipped Frankie's anger into something she had never felt before. It was like an emotional meringue - the airy feeling of loneliness topped with the hard crisp of injustice. Yet its taste was far from sweet.”

“Friends first.""Even before Brett?""Always," Bekka said. Her lively freckled face was dead serious."Wow," Melody said in surprise. They really were friends. Hearing it helped her feel it. And feeling it was like sinking deeper into a warm bath.”

“Watching a make-out while wrapped in a blanket with a guy she wanted to make out with made her feel exposed. Obvious. Transparent. Like her thoughts were flashing before his eyes.Finally Brett managed to pull away without consent of Bekka's lips. The confusion created a sloppy bite-a-juicy-peach sound. Everyone cringed.”

“I dunno." She sat on the bench and hugged the robe like a pillow. "I still think that Brett guy is cute.""Good luck getting him away from Bekka." Cleo gathered her silky black hair into a high pony and pink-dabbed Smith's Rosebud Salve on her lips. "She's got more grip than Crazy Glue.""More cling than Saran Wrap," Lala added."More hold than Final Net." Cleo giggled."More possession than The Exorcist," Lala managed."More clench than butt cheeks," Blue chimed in."More competition than American Idol," Frankie stuck out her chest and showed them her diva booty roll.The girls burst out laughing."Nice!" Blue lifted her purple gloved hand.Frankie slapped it without a single spark."I hate to be a downer..." Claudine shuffled back into the conversation wearing her slippers and robe. "But that girl will destroy you if she catches you with Brett.""I'm not worried," Frankie tossed her hair back. "I've seen all the teen movies, and the nice girl gets the boy in the end.”

“Because whipping an atlas at Jackson's head while he was flirt-touching that Frankie girl in geography would have been very satisfying. And beating him with the Eiffel Tower snowglobe while he kissed Cleo in French would have been tres cathartic. But she hadn't. Instead she'd been egg-like: a hard shell on the outside, and a runny mess on the inside.”

“She didn't mind a little rain. At least no one would see her cry.”

“Something about Bekka and Haylee reminded her of Candace's line between ingenious and insane. Ingenuity inspired their dreams, and insanity gave them the courage to pursue them. It was something Melody wanted for herself.”

“When the horse was little, Massie had covered the walls with posters of young fillies that she thought Brownie would find sexy.”

“The inaugural morning at Merston High was officially over. It was no longer a mysterious place in Melody's imagination, filled with endless possibilities and hooks on which to hang hopes for a better tomorrow. It was completely - boringly - normal. Like meeting an online crush after months of e-flirting, the reality didn't live up to the fantasy. It was dull, predictable, and way more attractive in the photos.”

“It was becoming more and more evident that Salem was a town that celebrated individuality, a real live-and-let-live kind of place. Melody felt a gut punch of regret. Her old nose would have fit in here."Look!" She pointed at the multicolored car whizzing by. Its black door were from a Mercedes coupe, the white hood from a BMW; the silver trunk was Jaguar, the red convertible top was Lexus, the whitewall tires were Bentley, the sound system was Bose, and the music was classical. A hood ornament from each model dangled from the rear view mirror. Its license plate appropriately read MUTT."That car looks like a moving Benton ad.""Or a pileup on Rodeo drive." Candace snapped a picture with her iPhone and e-mailed to her friends back home. They responded instantly with a shot of what they were doing. It must have involved the mall because Candace picked up her pace and began asking anyone under the age of fifty where the cool people hung out.”