“Insane asylum' - among the great narrative options, that'd be one step short of 'and then she woke up', right? Or is that what you're planning next episode as we push the tandem-story envelope?Cool nude-hairbrushing scene, by the way. I assume it's her butt that the pillow's caressing? She's a thoughtful one, isn't she? Shame about the hair knot. That could wreck a person's whole day.- Joel”

“She sorts out her lipstick with a glance in the hall mirror, her free hand simultaneously pointing out rogue books and magazines that suddenly, urgently need me to tidy them. She ducks into her bedroom, rummages noisily, makes a brief appearance in the hallway in what can only be described as a Poncho. 'No,' she says. 'No.' And she balls it up and flings it back through her bedroom door. I want to medicate her. One of those tranquilliser darts they use to bring down big cats would do.- Joel”

“You know what your mum might be?''You're not really asking, are you? This is rhetorical, isn't it?''A real life desperate housewife. Maybe your mum's hooking and she -'"What are you, drunk? There's a five-year-old in the back seat. And, PS, you're not helping. All she said is that she's at the station. Not in jail. Now, I don't want to talk anymore about it.Mark and I spend the remainder of the car trip in silence. Emma, on the other hand, takes it upon herself to sing every verse of It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp. Next chance I get I'm gonna confiscate her copy of Hustle and Flow and change her computer password from GEELOVE to MONOBROW.- Cat”

“Still, Emma and I somehow struck up the type of friendship that lasts through primary school and high-school cliques, and our fathers are both doctors, although my dad is a GP and Dr Frank is a gynecologist (or, as Emma's two older brothers prefer to call him, a 'box mechanic'). In many ways, I think Emma and I balance each other out - at least, I hope we do. She forces me to be less cynical and bitter. And I'm on hand to remind her that, as long as she has two eyebrows rather than one, she has nothing to worry about. I text her back: 'Call me when you can plait them.'- Cat”

“She looks at my father, the human jaffa. 'Hey Dr Davis. You're looking...''Orange,' I say matter-of-factly. I turn and look at her, 'Trust me, you don't wanna know.'- Cat”

“But opposites attract, as they say, and that's certainly true when it comes to Emma Marchetta and me. She's the beauty and I'm the brains. She loves all forms of reality television, would donate a kidney if it meant she could pash Andrew G, is constantly being invited out to parties and other schools' semi formals, and likes any movie featuring Lindsay Lohan. I, on the other hand, have shoulder-length blonde hair, too many freckles and - thanks to years of swimming the fifty-metre butterfly event - swimmer's shoulders and no boobs. In other words, I look like an ironing board with a blonde wig.- Cat”

“Five minutes later and the three of us are pushing through the heavy, swinging doors of the Brisbane Watchhouse. A place that at six on a Tuesday evening looks like Little Nimbin - we're the only ones wearing shoes. 'Remind me what we're here to get - you know, apart from head lice and maybe tinea?' I say to no one in particular.- Cat”