“You what?" Dale yelped, looking like I'd handed him something dead. "You ain't writing during summer vacation, are you? I'm pretty sure that's against the rules.”

“Dale's family is like that. Let the Law come within twenty yards of them, and every male over the age of six--uncles, brother, father, cousins--starts lying his fool head off. Dale says it's genetic. Miss Lana says that's poppycock.”

“Dale can choose not to worry like he chooses not to wear socks.”

“Dale can't tolerate other people throwing up. He gets what's known as the Synchronized Heaves.”

“For me, it was a Gold Star day. I'd identified an enemy, and I'd made a life decision: I might come home tore up from fighting or late from being punished, but I'd never come home crying. So far, I ain't.”

“Yes ma'am," I said, "Anna Celeste's party is Saturday, but I don't need a ride.... No ma'am. It's because Anna Celeste is my Sworn Enemy for Life and I'd rather go face-down in a plate of raw chicken entrails than go to her party. Plus I'm not invited....”

“I'm Baptist. So far, Fast or Never is the only speeds I got with forgiving.”