“I’m not really beautiful,’ she said to herself, ‘but tonight I feel beautiful. And I look like a girl who feels beautiful.' (84)”

“You are not required to start over, but you are required to keep going.”

“He smiled and it was beautiful and horrible what I saw in it. Hope that should not be born and desire that could never bear fruit. Whether they were my feelings or his, I did not know.”

“I like people, kind of. I even like boys, mostly. But I was beginning to feel like that stewardess who smiles at you when you get off the plane. Behind the smile you know she really wishes she could trip someone.”

“Up is down. Down is up.” “And that means … ?” “I’m probably half in love with a boy I don’t really like.”

“His dark hair was thick and looked so soft I had to resist the urge to touch it. Looking into his dark eyes was like falling into the stars, making me feel weightless and disoriented.”

“Who was your first kiss?” Heat rushed into my face. I flattered myself by thinking maybe he wanted to kiss me. I wished he wanted to kiss me. “I haven’t …” Squeezing my eyes closed, I began again. “I haven’t been kissed. Yet.” “Why?” I rolled my eyes at his innocence. “You obviously know I’m not like other girls. I’m shy and I don’t spend time with boys. My father is strict and—” “That’s not why.” He thought he knew me so well.“Fine. You tell me why I haven’t been kissed.” I regretted the words and my tone instantly. What if he told me what I already knew? That I was lacking. Not interesting or pretty enough. “You were waiting.”