“The thought of gaining weight was all she needed to lose her appetite completely. Not that Jessica – a model-slim, perfect size-six – ever had to worry about her weight.”

“Jessica was clearly in her element, moving with the music naturally and without effort. Even her lustrous golden hair swayed to the beat, completing the perfect picture of a dancer caught up in ecstasy.”

“Jessica felt like a heroine in a tragic, dramatic love story. She lifted her chin and turned away. It was all over.”

“David had said something about her 'distinctive features'. Was he going to make her look ethnic? Jade worried. She was trying so hard to look just like everyone else!”

“She used to write all the time,' Elizabeth explained, 'before she lost all that weight. Remember? When she was the butt of everyone’s jokes instead of the girl all the boys want to date?”

“Actually for a while Jessica had contemplated making a grand entrance wearing only the dress, thinking wickedly about how the sight of her cold, shivering body would prompt Nicholas to rush up and put his arms around her to warm her up. But evenings at this time of year were usually chilly, and she saw no reason to risk pneumonia just for a sympathy hug. She'd have to settle for throwing her coat off dramatically as she was being ushered into the Morrow mansion.”

“Elizabeth scowled, feeling like a nobody, a nothing. She felt like her entire self had been made worthless. She could change her interests, but she couldn’t change her looks. She’d never be six feet tall. She’d never look like a supermodel.”