“So…you're not going to tell me what they mean? C'mon. What's the Hob? Why Forks?” When I stand, I switch to my blatantly rude, you're-an-idiot tone. This is the one that always pisses off my mom. To be sure he's not missing my insult this time, I also cross my arms and speak very slowly like I'm speaking to a toddler. “The Hob is from The Hunger Games books. It's the underground market where the characters trade food and information. Forks would be the town in Twilight. The setting. In boy-speak, Forks equals the planet Tatooine for Star Wars. You know—Anakin Skywalker's childhood home? Or are you not familiar with any global blockbusters? I suppose I could use Sesame Street or Pokémon for a reference—if it would help you understand better?” Bam. That should seal it. I couldn't have sounded more like a total bitch. He nods. “No, I've got it. My bedroom was Tatooine for all of third and fourth grade. Boy-speak…that's funny.” He laughs again, and it sounds warm and—and—not at all offended!”

“I sound like an idiot. But what else am I supposed to say? My parents are getting a divorce? I'm practically flunking drawing and literature? My best friend's barely speaking to me and changes the subject when I ask where she was on Saturday night? I think about you all the time and I want your body?”

“I'd rather be in Forks? I shop the HOB? What do these even mean?!”

“I think my ideal man would speak many languages. He would speak Ibo and Yoruba and English and French and all of the others. He could speak with any person, even the soldiers, and if there was violence in their heart he could change it. He would not have to fight, do you see? Maybe he would not be very handsome, but he would be beautiful when he spoke. He would be very kind, even if you burned his food because you were laughing and talking with your girlfriends instead of watching the cooking. He would just say, 'Ah, never mind'.”

“Reg: Furth's in London. And yes, I know, it's my fault. But as long as I'ver roused the lion, I was going to ask you to speak to him on my behalf.Alex: You wish me to speak to Furth.Reg: Well, yes. He's always like you. Just tell him what a noble, upright fellow I am, and how I have always upheld my position with dignity and respect.Alex: Lie, you mean.REg: Whatever it takes.”

“When I first moved to LA, no one could understand a thing I said, you would think I was speaking another language. Every time I would order something at Starbucks, they would go, 'Huh? What did you say?' My accent was an issue and my low voice was as well. They thought I should be more girlie. But that's who I am.”