“I don’t know how they do it. I don’t know how anybodydoes it, waking up every morning and eating and movingfrom the bus to the assembly line, where the teacherbotsinject us with Subject A and Subject B, and passingevery test they give us. Our parents provide the list ofingredients and remind us to make healthy choices: onesport, two clubs, one artistic goal, community service, nogrades below a B, because really, nobody’s average, notaround here. It’s a dance with complicated footwork anda changing tempo.I’m the girl who trips on the dance floor and can’t findher way to the exit. All eyes on me.”

“I’m the girl who trips on the dance floor and can’t find her way to the exit. All eyes on me.”

“I am Outcast.""The kids behind me laugh so loud I know they’re laughing about me. I can’t help myself. I turn around. It’s Rachel, surrounded by a bunch of kids wearing clothes that most definitely did not come from the EastSide Mall. Rachel Bruin, my ex-best friend. She stares at something above my left ear. Words climb up my throat. This was the girl who suffered through Brownies with me, who taught me how to swim, who understood about my parents, who didn’t make fun of my bedroom. If there is anyone in the entire galaxy I am dying to tell what really happened, it’s Rachel. My throat burns.""Her eyes meet mine for a second. “I hate you,” she mouths silently.”

“The parents are making threatening noises, turning dinner into performance art, with dad doing his Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation and mom playing Glenn Close in one of her psycho roles. I am the Victim.Mom: [creepy smile] “Thought you could put one over us, did you, Melinda? Big high school students now, don’t need to show your homework to your parents, don’t need to show any failing test grades?”Dad: [bangs table, silverware jumps] “Cut the crap. She knows what’s up. The interim reports came today. Listen to me, young lady. I’m only going to say this to you once. You get those grades up or your name is mud. Hear me? Get them up!” [Attacks baked potato.]”

“Brain: You don’t want this.Hormones: Dude, this is EXACTLY what I want.B: No, not like this—she's wasted.H: What's your point?B: She won't remember this, and if she does, she'll be angry.H: Do you see where her hand is? God, that feels good. Can't you feel that?B: She's drunk. You can't do this. It's wrongH: I want to do this.B: Really? You want to go to school and say you scored with Bethany Milbury when she was so drunk she barely knew her name?H:H:H: You're an asshole. I hate you.B: She needs to eat something and drink some water. Don't let her drink anymore beer.H:H: Yeah, I knowB: She'll love you for taking care of her. She'll love that you respected her.H: Five more minutes? Just five?B: Now.H: I can't believe you're making me do this.”

“Adrenaline kicks you in when you’re starving. That’s what nobody understands. Except for being hungry and cold, most of the time I feel like I can do anything. It gives me superhuman powers of smell and hearing. I can see what people are thinking, stay two steps ahead of them. I do enough homework to stay off the radar. Every night I climb thousands of steps into the sky to make me so exhausted that when I fall into bed, I don’t notice Cassie. Then suddenly it’s morning and I leap on the hamster wheel and it starts all over again.”

“We held hands when we walked down the gingerbread path into the forest, blood dripping from our fingers. We danced with witches and kissed monsters. We turned us into wintergirls, when she tried to leave, I pulled her back into the snow because I was afraid to be alone.”