Maybe wrist corsages cut off circulation to the brain? I mean, is that why so many girls do stupid things on prom night? I was really going to have to investigate this further, I decided.
Cammie!” I’ll never forget the tone of Macey’s voice in that moment. “Cam,” she said slowly, moving toward me, “I know how it feels to be watched every second of every day. I know what it’s like to trust fewer and fewer people until it seems like you are completely alone in the world. I know you think the only things that are left in your life are the bad things. I know what you’re feeling, Cam.” Her hands were on my shoulders. Her blue eyes were staring into mine. “I know.
I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared through the window’s wavy glass. The red velvet curtains were drawn around the tiny alcove, and I was enveloped by an odd sense of peace, knowing that in twenty minutes, the halls were going to be crowded; music was going to be blaring; and I was going to go from being an only child to one of a hundred sisters, so I knew to savor the silence while it lasted.
Keep your chin up. Eventually, you will meet someone who cares about your opinion. I’m so sorry I’m not her.
What kind of plan B?” Hale asked. He was almost holding his breath when a voice answered, “My kind.” Macey tried to read the look on his face then, but it was gone in a flash. It had been a simple moment of peace and joy and pure happiness. That voice made Hale happy. It kept him calm. It was his backup and his conscience. Macey couldn’t help herself, she envied him.
I have to smile. He’s such a dork. But I’m starting to realize the one good thing that’s happened: he’s my dork.
I’ve attended seven schools in ten years,” I explain. “So you can rest assured I know you. You’re the girl who thinks being cruel is the same thing as being witty. You think being loud is the same thing as being right. And, most of all, you’re the girl who is very, very pretty. And also very, very... common. trust me. There’s at least one of you in every school.” I watch her features shift. “Oh. Wait. Did you think you were unique?
I’m not an idiot! I’m just twelve. I’m a twelve-year-old girl and neither of those facts are my fault.
Friends help each other when they are... you know... going up international hit men and stuff.
Mom’s Israeli. Dad’s Brazilian. What can I say? I am Embassy Row personified. You really lucked out in the best friend department.
For the first time I realize how perilous peace can be. I appreciate the tightrope that my grandfather has spent his whole life trying to walk. And now, more than ever, I grow terrified that I’m going to make us all fall down.
I sang because that is what I do when I am happy and when I’m sad. I sang because it is who I am when I am being the best possible version of me.
Congratulations,” I tell her with a slight bow. “I hope you and your power trip will be very happy together. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to go.
Sweetheart, when you lose someone, you lose a little bit of yourself, too. And that missing piece? Sometimes you have to lose the rest of yourself to find it.
She really wants to be my friend, I realize, and suddenly I feel very sorry for her. She doesn’t know what a terrible thing it is she’s asking for.
He’s been looking at me like I’ve been drinking, and I can’t blame him. My dress is ripped and my words slur. I’m not myself, I think, bu then I realize something even scarier: I am exactly myself.
I know not all people with scars are evil,” I snap. “I’m not living in a cartoon.
I’m a man without a country. Or I’m a man with too many countries-you pick. Ultimately, in both global politics and the high school power hierarchy, they amount to the same thing.
Power has always corrupted, my dear. Even the promise of power. It is a hard thing to look at through the fence for hundreds of years without wondering what it would be like on the other side.
Because that’s the thing about hope- you can never kill it yourself.