“That's stupid," Luke says sharply, totally out of character, and shoots Laura a look that makes her flush red. "First of all, she's not ugly-pretty, she's just normal pretty. What a dumb thing to say. And second, she's different from the average girl 'cause she doesn't even need makeup."Silence. Luke looks down at his arm and twirls the leather strap around his wrist. I nudge him, and when he looks up at me, I mouth Thank you, not trusting my voice since an unexpected lump has found its way to my throat.”
“Well, I don't know," he starts, looking down and then up again, anywhere but at me. "Like, for example, your new clothes, it's like a whole new you. You dress more like those girls now.""I just want to look nice!" I defend myself."No,not that that's a bad thing, Ricki Jo!" he says, glancing down at me and then back over his shoulder. "You look great. Really pretty, actually.Just, you didn't care before and you were still"-he stammers on-"y-you know...pretty.”
“Asking Wolf to couples' skate is like bungee jumping without a cord-it may be the bravest thing I've ever done in my life.Or it could be the stupidest.There's only one way to find out.I look him dead in the eyes, summoning up both my courage and my sense of reckless abandon, but before I can even speak one syllable-"Oh!" he says, looking over one shoulder and dropping his hands. "Kaitlyn's free now. I gotta get over there!"He rushes off, blowing me an air kiss.My mouth should get used to falling open when he's around, either from his good looks or from his total lack of comprehension of all things polite. Did that just happen?My face in my palms, I lean on my elbows against the rail, invisible, and fall into an intoxicating state of self-pity.”
“Now it's just that dishwater blond," my mom continued as she snaps the last roller into place.I get up and kiss her on the cheek. "Thanks, Momma," I say, looking in the mirror over the mantel to check my pink plastic Afro head. Dishwater? Seriously? Way to build the self-esteem before the most important day of my life, I think; but what I say is, "I'm gonna go get ready for bed.”
“Fuming, I reach for the stick at my feet; however, this is the precise moment that a small black garter snake slithers out in front of me. I do what any normal fourteen-year-old girl would do: scream my head off, dance in spastic horror, and throw my tobacco knife into the dirt-completely missing the snake. I look to Luke for help, but he's laughing hysterically, which really gets my already hot blood boiling. Wrists on sweaty forehead, breathing totally out of control, I walk around in a circle until the disgusting little reptile slithers away.I am-offically-over it.”
“She is waiting for me when I step outside of school at the end of the day, her sturdy frame standing by the passenger door of my papaw's small truck, waving. Yes,waving-ildly, with both arms in the air,and catching herself on the door when she loses her balance.Mortified,I attempt a nonchalant wave to the other girls on my squad. Practice actually went well today.I like the girls and I'm on top of all the pyraminds, which is cool.What is not cool is my grandmother shouting my name and motioning at me like an escaped mental patient who has taken a day job landing planes.I sprint over to their truck, which is parked diagonally across to handicapped spots, as quickly as I can."I'm here, gosh! Stop yelling," I say."Comee here, baby," she says, and before I know it, she's pressing me against her massive bosom in a bear hug, slapping my back and cooing into my ear. "You're Mamaw's baby, ain't ya? Yes, Mamaw's sure happy to see you."There is no escape.Because I am too short and scrawny and no match for her brute grandchild-love strength, I wait it out.”
“He makes lookin' good seem effortless. Like, he lives in that lookin'-good zone. I think I'll wear a long white gown and a short veil, and he and his groomsmen will wear sharp charcoal tuxedos. We'll get married on my farm and-"No, it's Ericka. She doesn't want to be called Ricki Jo anymore," I hear Mackenzie remind Laura.Oh,god. Wolf is looking right at me, wearing a lopsided, perfect, melt-me-into-a-pool-on-my-seat grin.”