“And I flat out refuseto have one of those livesthat I wouldn’t even wantto read about.”

“I wish he hadn't gone and cut his hair.He looks about eight years old.His ears have tripled in size.Everyone's started calling him Dumbo.Which wouldn't be so bad,except they've started calling meMrs. Dumbo.You can't even tellhe's got curly hair anymore.There's nothing leftto run my fingers through.Just this weirdblond AstroTurfsprouting out of his skull.”

“But Lunch Isn't That Bad, ReallyOnce I get used tohaving to eat with two peopleinstead of one.Two people who have known each otherfor such a long timethat they practically speak in code.Two people who are always saying,"Remember the time when this happened?"and "Remember the time when that happened?"(Which, of course,I never do,because I wasn't there.)Well, okay,it is that bad.It sucks, even.”

“There’s something so great about this,” she whispers. About what?” I whisper back.About this,” she whispers. About being outlaws. It’s just you and me—against the world.”

“Ready or not, here I comeI'm so tired of this dumb game of hide and seekOlly olly oxen freeShow yourself, you're scaring meCome out, come out, where ever you areYou've taken this thing way too far”

“Every now and then,during the commercialsDad will say something like,'How was school today, Sophie Dophie?'Once I said, 'We played strip pokerduring third period and I lost.'Dad just said, 'That's nice,'without even looking up from his meatloaf.”

“If Dylan and I had metby chatting on the Netin a room of cyberspaceinstead of face to faceand I hadn't seen his lipsor the way he moves his hipswhen he does that sexy danceand I hadn't had a chanceto look into his eyesand be dazzled by their sizeand all that I had seenwere his letters on my screen,then I might as well confess:I think I would have liked himless.”