Sarah Ockler

“But there’s something about Watonka, they say. Something that pulls us back, the electromagnet that holds all the metal in place”

“...Dads are supposed to be the strong ones. That's probably why Red has so many lines on his forehead. All the hurt goes up there to hide.”

“Matt died of a broken heart”

“Because they're parents. It's in the job description. Must drive minivans. Must be immune to fashion. Must be freaks.”

“Mat - Red and Jayne's Matt, Frankie's Matt, my Matt - died of a broken heart.”

“I'm still dropping dishes thinking in slow motion about the GPS woman in Mom's car. I imagine her beckoning me from outside the kitchen window illuminated like some robot-angel calling me forth to the Lexus where she will ferry me off to that planet of monotonous peace that special otherworldly place where all the residents are relaxed and confident and completely numb. Your life will. Get better in. Six. Point four. Million. Miles.”

“Patrick leans in for a hug through the open doorway, and in his arms I'm reminded of the other dream I had last night, which... oh... which I immediately stamp out of my mind, hoping that no one else noticed the temperature in the room shoot up about five hundred degrees. Could my subconscious be any more inappropriate?”

“The hardest thing is that I’ll never know exactly what I lost, how much it should hurt, how long I should keep thinking about him. He took that mystery with him when he died, and a hundred thousand one-sided letters in my journal wouldn’t have brought me any closer to the truth than I was at the night I pressed my fingers to the sea glass he wore around his neck and kissed him back.”

“I can't stop thinking about what he felt like against my body, against my lips. I can't remember anything else, anything before that. And I realize in this moment that I've finally done it. That horrible, awful thing I swore I would never do.The frosting. The cigarettes. The blue glass triangle. The shooting stars. The taste of his mouth on mine in the hall closet. Gone. All I can think about is Sam. Matt is – erased. My whole body is warm and buzzing. Sam is smiling next to me, because of me. And I've never felt so lonely in all my life.”

“I’ll never know exactly what I lost, how much it should hurt, how long I should keep thinking about him.”

“When you’re in the middle of being in love with someone, you just don’t stop to ask.”

“No one knows me here. No one knows that they’re supposed to feel sorry forme.”

“Don't you ever see the bright side of things?" Patrick asks as I mope against the bottom of the ladder."Easy to see the bright side when you're getting paid by the hour.""Delilah, I will gladly give you my fill wage plus a month's supply of your iced choco-nut whatever lattes if you trade places and clothes with my right now.""You're not wearing a shirt.""That's the deal, Hannaford," he says.”

“Stephanie was…intense. That's the best word to describe her, Del. The best one.”

“Not everyone who comes to Luna's on gig nights is here to see me. Some people are actually more interested in the coffee. Or the scones. Or in hitting on Emily.""Oh, I didn't say I wasn’t' here to hit on Em," I say. "Just that hitting on Em and enjoying your music aren't mutually exclusive.”

“You know it wouldn't kill you to walk, right, old man?""Maybe not. Wouldn't kill you to keep your clothes on, either.”

“Sure, Mom." There are worse punishments than tailing Patrick all summer. Don't contractors usually work without shirts?”

“Left turn in four. Hundred. Feet."An invisible electronic woman navigates us toward the highway from the distant planet Monotone, where everyone is tranquil and directionally adept,”

“You know, hon, after Stephie died, we never really talked about her." she says, her hands tight around the cart handle. "There's a lot of pain there. Still. I guess we feel like we failed her. Like maybe if we were home instead of away at college, we could've done something to fix her. Something my patents and the doctors and her boyfriend missed. Sometimes I think I don't have the right to talk about her. Like at the end, I don't know her well enough to say anything. So much of her life became secret. She spent all of her time with her boyfriend, and when she was home, her nose was buried in her diary. I swear that diary was her best friend, even more than Megan.""Did you ever read it?" I ask."No.""Not even after she died?"Aunt Rachel shakes her head, removing an eggplant from the middle row and pressing her fingers against its flesh. "To this day, I don't know if I would've, either. We never found it, Delilah. It's like she just…took it with her.”

“She makes her people work on Sundays?" Rachel whispers, pulling some of my grandmother's old food from he fridge and sniffing it."Nah-weekends are optional. They only have to work them if they want to keep their jobs.”

“He turned the entire living room into an airport, complete with a four-foot-high LEGO traffic control tower and a fleet of paper planes, plastic army pilots taped safely into their cockpits. From deep beneath the couch, a large utility flashlight illuminates some sort of...landing strip? I crouch down for a better look.Oh. My. God.Stuck to the carpet in parallel, unbroken paths from one wall to the other are two lanes of brand-new maxi pads. Plastic dinosaurs stand guard at every fourth pad–triceratops and T rexes on one side, brontosauruses and pterodactyls on the other–protecting the airport from enemy aircraft and/or heavy flow.”

“Everyone says that the internet is so awesome because you can connect with people from all over the world, but I think it’s the opposite. The internet doesn’t make it easier to connect with anyone—it just makes it so you don’t really have to.”

“Being with Josh is like being touched from the inside out. An unexpected blaze of sunshine on an otherwise bleak winter day. Wrapping your fingers around a mug of hot chocolate after walking home in that frigid lake-effect wind. A fire crackling softly beneath your outstretched hands. The perfect combination of cupcake and icing, the kind where you can’t quite identify all the secret ingredients, but you feel them melting together on your tongue, and you know that for as long you live, this will be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Because maybe Watonka was only ever supposed to be a temporary stopover, and maybe I will chase that train over the hill, and maybe we're all destined to leave this place, for sure, for real, together or alone. But for right now, we're here.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, Princess Pink has officially brung it.”

“Mom asked for a cupcake miracle? Well, here comes the freaking holy angel of icing, at your service. --HudsonAngel icing? That's the craziest, corniest, most whack-ass stuff I've heard in my life”

“So Old Man Date Rape was number what?" she asks. "Four or five?""We're not counting him," I say. "This is the Twenty Boy Summer, not the Twenty Dirty Old Man Summer.”

“Where is Frankie, anyway?" Dad asks. "It's almost noon. I'm surprised you two can stand the separation."I take a deep breath and gulp down some orange juice.Well, Dad, first Frankie lied to me about losing her virginity to the foreign exchange student on the soccer field, and how your first time can't be special and all that. Then we decided to have this twenty boy contest but we only met, like, half, and she lied again about sleeping with one of them when really they just kind of fooled around naked and broke up. Meanwhile, when I was casting off my virginity with boy number five (or was he six?), Frankie read my journal and found out that I was in love with Matt for a million years and by the way, right after you took that picture of us with all the cake and frosting, he kissed me and started this whole long thing that we weren't allowed to tell her about. Frankie was so mad that she threw my journal into the bottom of the ocean, where it was banished for all eternity with a lovesick mermaid who cries out pieces of sea glass. Are you going to eat that bacon?..."I'll probably see her later," I say.”

“After half an hour of forced family fun, in which I score fifty points and take out at least seventy-five percent of my anger trying to blast Frankie with the ball, our game is cut short. Princess gets stung on the top of her foot by a teeny-tiny newborn baby of a jelly-fish and carries on like some shark just swam away with her torso. For one brief moment I wonder if it's the ghost of my journal, reincarnated after its watery death to claim vengeance by stabbing her with its thin metal spiral. The thought makes me smile on the inside, just a little bit.”

“Aunt Jayne asks if we'd like to stop somewhere for dessert, and since nodding and smiling is easier than shaking our heads and inventing a reason for not wanting dessert, we okay it without thinking. And since the universe has worked in its own mysterious way all vacation, tonight shouldn't be any different, which is why neither of us is particularly surprised to discover that Jayne is craving a smoothie....Once Sam returns to his post behind the counter, Frankie stops kicking me and we slurp down our drinks in about two minutes, anxious to get out of here before anyone recognizes us. Uncle Red and Aunt Jayne, on the other hand, act like this is the last smoothie shop they'll ever see, like smoothies are an endangered species to be appreciated and savored and drawn out as long as possible. With each passing minute, Frankie and I sink lower in our chairs, praying to the God of Annoying Coincidences that Jake doesn't show up and blow our cover.”

“I've played a few times, Anna. Remember the parties?""Not exactly." I must have been in the bathroom during that part of the nonexistent parties, hiding out from the vomiting hot girl while Frankie completed her beer pong apprenticeship.”

“I think we both like Crazy Anna a little more than regular Anna. It's like magic - while I was trying on the bathing suit last month, it rubbed against my butt and unleashed the Absolute Best Summer Ever Bikini Genie, granting all my wishes.”

“I pick up my journal, mug, and granola bar wrapper, look up to the sky, and curse the God of Summer Vacations for getting me into this whole albatross-ditching, Sam-avoiding, aiding-and-abetting mess in the first place.”

“Virgin, right?" the voice asks again. It comes from the tall one with white-blond hair falling into his eyes. Frankie is still giggling, and my entire body goes hot and red, despite the chill in the water. If Frankie thinks she's just going to auction me off, well ... I don't know. It's kind of hard to be witty when you're trying to call forth a giant sea squid to swallow you up and drag you down to the depths of the ocean floor, never to be seen, heard from, or mocked again.”

“If I'd known he was going to die, my last words to him would have meant something. They certainly wouldn't have been my out-of-tune attempt at singing that old Grateful Dead song he loved so much. No, I would have told him how I felt about him, straight out. No more flirting, wild-eyed whispers in the grass outside. I would have looked at him harder to ensure his image was permanently seared in my mind. I'd have asked him a million more things so I could remember what mattered before I got in the car on the way home from Custard's. Because after, nothing mattered.”

“But in the end, there were only two boys that really mattered.Matt and Sam.”

“Keep it,” he says. “Something to remember me by.”“I don’t need a sweatshirt for that,” I say, already putting it back on.“Then keep it because it’s cool.”“Deal.”

“It’s strange,” I say, rubbing my feet against his. “I feel like I should be sad, but I’m not. It’s not that I won’t miss you, but it just feels like-”“Like everything is going to be okay anyway,” he says, finishing my thought.”

“Garra's got a way with the ladies," the Plazma wannabe announces with a wink. "So do I - it's a bass player thing.”

“Read them, Anna. Really read them.”

“Let someone else have a lucky day, Anna.”

“The most tragic thing about California is that nothing is permanent or real here," he says. "It gets to you, you know?”

“They key to a great party is the music," Sam says, scrolling through his iPod as we tramp through the sand. Eddie - the guy having the party - put Sam in charge of the playlist. "If it's too intense, no one will be able to hang out and talk. But if it's too mellow, it will turn into a snoozefest. You also have to consider timing. There's a particular kind of music appropriate for each stage of the party - intro, warm-up, full swing, wind-down, and outro.”

“It takes forty muscles to frown, and only twelve to jam a cupcake in your mouth and get over it.”

“the person I missed didn't exist anymore. People change. The things we like and dislike change. And we can wish they wouldn't all day long, but that never works.”

“I'd rather be completely alone than with a bunch of people aren't real.”

“. . . how easily some things can be broken for good and for bad, and how some things, no matter how shattered, can still go back together. Like Moo, my family may never be as strong as it once was. There are chips and cracks and scars, But some of them can be repaired, piece by piece, rebuilt into something even more cherished and loved and unique.”

“Emily, Megan, Jack, Luna, Patrick . . . they helped me learn what true friendship is. It's never perfect, but it is important.”

“We arrived in Vermont expecting to fix up the old lake house. But in the end, it was the house that fixed us.”

“Some people call it child labor. I call it... let's not get technical.”