“Isabel had hated me on sight, and not because I was fat. Just because she could.”

“As Isabel acted out her date, both of them laughing, I stayed in the kitchen, out of sight, and pretended she was telling me, too. And that, for once, I was part of this hidden language of laughter and silliness and girls that was, somehow, friendship.”

“How did you meet him?" I asked her.She smiled. "Here, actually. During a dinner rush. He was sitting at the counter and Isabel knocked a cup of coffee in his lap.""Ouch," I said."No kidding. She was so slammed she just kept moving, so I cleaned it up and made all the apologies. He said it was okay,, no problem, and I laughed and said pretty girls get away with anything." She looked down, twisting her ring a bit so the diamond sat in the centre of her finger, "And he smiled, and looked at Isabel, and said she wasn't his type."There was a faint cheer from the stadium, and I saw a ball whiz over the far fence and out of sight."And so," she went on, "I said, "Oh really? What is your type, exactly?" and he looked up at me and said, "You.”

“I took in a breath. "What's the one thing you'd do," I asked. "if you could do anything?"Pass," he said.For a second I was sure I'd heard wrong. "What?"He cleared his throat. "I said, I pass."Why?"He turned his head and looked at me. "Because."Because why?"Because I just do.”

“Your mother won a special reward," she told me, "because everyone had a head in her pictures. We all applauded.”

“Just because someone's pretty, doesn't mean she's decent.”

“I wondered if it was really because he cared about me, or if now I was just another challenge.”