“I hate you." My sister said it different than she said it to my dad. She meant it with me.She really did. "I love you," was all I could say in return. "You're a freak, you know that? Everyone says so. They always have." "I'm trying not to be.” Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.[pp.28]”
“Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.”
“I put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.”
“I hate you."I love you."You're a freak, you know that? Everyone says so. They always have."I'm trying not to be.”
“I hate you""No, you don't." My dad can be very calm sometimes."He's my hole world""Don't ever say that about anyone again. Not even me." That was my mom. [pp.28]”
“Well, you know, I might try out for the musical," I say real quick.[...] She nods and says, "You should. We need guys." [...] She smiles and says, "Break a leg" as I walk out.That was uncalled for. "Bitch," I say under my breath as the door closes.”