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

“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.”

“Once upon a time there was an eighteen-year-old girl who dragged her butt out of bed and hauled it all the way to school on a sunny day in May.”

“I can’t tell anymore when I’m asleep and when I’m awake, or which is worse.”

“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.”

“They yell at me because I can’t see what they see. Nobody can explain to me why my eyes work different than theirs. Nobody can make it stop.”

“The light beyond my eyes flashflashflashes with a hundred futures for me. Doctor. Ship's captain. Forest ranger. Librarian. Beloved of that man or that women or those children or those people who voted for me or who painted my picture. Poet. Acrobat. Engineer. Friend. Guardian. Avenging whirlwind. A million futures--not all pretty, not all long, but all of them mine. I do have a choice" - p. 271”