“Just the kind of girl I liked—the weirdo in the bunch.”

“Aren't we all a bunch of weirdos?”

“If I’m as normal as I think I am, we’re all a bunch of weirdos.”

“So it is just you and your friends then.” “Yes. Is that so hard to believe?” Is it because we’re girls? I want to say. You think a bunch of girls are not capable of something like this?”

“I concentrated hard and snapped my fingers. "You don't see the sword," I told the girl. "It's just a ballpoint pen." She blinked. "Um . . . no. It's a sword, weirdo.”

“It didn't matter if i was the kind of girl who had sex, or the kind of girl who had her portrait on on a wall in the library, or the kind of girl who who got into the best college, or the kind of girl who didn't tell her parents everything, or the kind of girl who teachers loved. I just needed to be okay with all the kinds of girl I was.”