Backup backpacks.
It was beyond embarrassing or humiliating or even mortifying. It was ego-slaying!
Blue Face Disgusting taste Flush it Shush it Cold disgrace.
It’s disturbing how fast weeds take root in my garden of worthiness. They’re so hard to pull. And grow back so easily.
There’s no winning arguments with your parents, so why get all pumped up over them? It is way better to dive down and get out of the way than it is to get clobbered by some parental tidal wave.
Was it so much to ask just to be left alone?
The room fell quiet. And as I read down the list of over one hundred and fifty eight-grade boys, I realized that to me, there had only ever been one boy.
I wipe away my tears and nod, because the pain in my leg is nothing compare to the one in my heart.
If the mind’s not strong, the body acts weak, even if it’s not. If the mind says it’s too cold or too rainy or too windy to run, the body will be more than happy to agree. If the mind says it would be better to rest or recover or cut practice, the body will be glad to oblige.
I don’t think you’re aloud to be homeschooled if you don’t have a home.
I miss school. What’s wrong with me?
It’s funny to hear priests and nuns argue with each other.
You told us over and over that you don’t think you could live without books, but the ironic thing is, you’d probably die before you’d think to rip pages out of one to start a fire. Am I right? Well, get over it already. Better to be warm then well-read.
Holly, I understand that you are upset because Gemma pulled down your ants, but why did you think pouring motor oil inside her backpack is the way to solve the problem?
There was other stuff, too, like how something can be so much more than the parts it took to make it, and why people need things around them that lift them above their lives and make them feel the miracle of living.
Turn down a chance to feel magic for fear of a little dirt?
I had liked him for all the wrong reasons.
I am a runner. That’s what I do. That’s who I am. Running is all I know, or want, or care about.
Maybe my mother’s right. Maybe there is more to Bryce Loski than I know. Maybe it’s time to meet him in the proper light.
But in my heart I knew the old Bryce was toast. There was no going back. Not to Garrett or Shelly or Miranda or any of the other people who wouldn’t understand. Juli was different, but after all these years that didn’t bother me anymore. I liked it. I liked her.
I write early in the morning at the computer, and people think Im crazy, but I still use my Mac-Classic even though we have a state-of-the-art PC. There are just less distractions with the simpler machine.