“You don't even like swimming! You can't jump in without holding your nose," she points out.True.But if I were at the country club with the other kids my age, I would glide in from the shallow end or just plain jump in and drown. At least I'd die cool.”

“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.”

“I play it cool."Uh,yeah, I think so," I say, furioously kicking my feet in the air. "You?""Yeah,it should be pretty fun," he says."Yeah,it should be," I say.Pause,pause,pause,heartbeat racing. I can't catch my breath."You know who you're going with?" he asks.I'm sorry,but OH.MY.GOD."Nah," I say, pulling off nonchalance like a pro. "You know me; it's hard to choose when half the school is beating down my door."He chuckles. "I don't doubt it."Beat down my door, Wolf. Beat it down right now.I'll say yes!”

“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.”

“I pound my fist into my palm, furrowing my brow.My dad chokes on his dessert. I am emboldened."I want to wear the maroon and gold-the same maroon and gold you two wore when you fell in love all those years ago. Without that maroon and gold, you never would have fallen in love at prom, and I never would have been born. I am maroon and gold."The drama builds."I have spirit! Yes I do! I've got spirit, how 'bout you?" At this, I wildly wave fierce spirit fingers and heartily attempt the splits.Key word: attempt."Ow!" I cry, my crotch a foot from the floor, pain burning my groin.At this, neither of my parents can hold it anymore and, along with their eye rolling and head shaking, there is gut-wrenching laughter. I fall over to one side-sweet relief.”

“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.”

“Okay,like I could write about being new to this school and feeling really self-conscious already, you know, 'cause I'm new and haven't really gotten my growth spurt yet...in any capacity."This gets a few chuckles and I plow forward."Then,at this meeting, maybe some cool, hot jock is sitting next to me and asks me to stand up, only to have the entire classroom staring at me as I say, 'But I am standing up!' Except,you know, funnier."A few kids giggle and the big guy next to me grunts, "Pretty funny."I smile over at my new comrade and smack his massive shoulder like we're old friends.I'm going to have to get his name."I mean, obviously it'd be better than that. But I just think it'd be good comif relief," I add, doing what my dad calls laying it on thick. "And we could put it near the pet obits to balance out all the high-school-is-depressing-enough vibes!"Now the laughs are easy and everyone's smiling, and I feel myself loosen up a bit. Just like Mom and Dad with cheerleading, these folks are cracking under my spell, and I start really amping up the drama."And I know I couldn't use 'Traumarama' as a title since Seventeen already does, but I'm thinking 'Trauma and Drama-Terrible Tales of Teenagedom,' or something like that, with some real-life gossip mixed in.”