“We were about to give up and call it a night when somebody threw the girl off the bridge.”

“First we talked about girls. Not girls like any of us had ever seen in the flesh, but those girls in magazines with huge tits and puffed-up lips and sleepy eyes, like they'd been fucked hard all night and they were mostly pouting now because the guy finally pulled out. We talked about those girls a lot. And it was all talk.”

“Calling Vikki a slut or a whore was just like calling somebody the Duff. It was insulting and hurtful, and it was one of those titles that just fed off the inner fear every girl must have from time to time. Slut, bitch, prude, tease, ditz. They were all the same. Every girl felt like one of these sexist labels described her at some point.”

“He would sit very still on the doorstepAnd dream--O, that he had a friend!Somebody to come when he called them,Somebody to catch by the hand,Somebody to sleep with at night time,Somebody who'd quite understand.”

“You know what my friends and I used to call girls like you? Girls who had everything handed to them on a silver platter, who only cared about how they looked and who was dating the most popular guy?""What?"His grin grows wider. "We called you bitches. You girls were straight-up bitches.”

“They threw me off the haytruck about noon.”