“My English teacher has no face. She has uncombed stringy hair that droops on her shoulders. The hair is black from her part to her ears and then neon orange to the frizzy ends. I can't decide if she had pissed off her hairdresser or is morphing into a monarch butterfly. I call her Hairwoman.”

“She complains all the time about her hair turning gray and her butt sagging and her skin wrinkling, but I'm supposed to be grateful for a face full of zits, hair in embarrassing places, and feet that grow an inch a night. Utter crap.”

“When I was in sixth grade, my mom bought me all these books about puberty and adolescence, so I would appreciate what a ‘beautiful’ and ‘natural’ and ‘miraculous’ transformation I was going through. Crap. That’s what it is. She complains all the time about her hair turning gray and her butt sagging and her skin winkling, but I’m supposed to be grateful for a face full of zits, hair in embarrassing places, and feet that grow an inch a night. Utter crap.”

“Eating plain toast will detonate her. "I'll have some honey."When the bread is done I scrape on a microscopic layer of it and pour a cup of coffee, black. She pretends not to listen or watch as I crunch through my breakfast. I pretend that I don't notice her pretending.”

“Emma hears me come up the stairs and asks me to watch a movie with her. I stick Band-Aids on my weeping cuts, put on pink pajamas so we match, and snuggle with her under her rainbow comforter. She arranges all of her stuffed animals around us in a circle, everyone facing the TV, then presses play...Ghosts dare not enter here.”

“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.”

“I sit at a table close to his desk. Ivy is in this class. She sits by the door. I keep staring at her, trying to make her look at me. That happens in movies--people can feel it when oother people stare at them and they just have to turn around and say something. Either Ivy has a great force field, or my lazer vision isn't very strong....”