Maybe your son didn't get that job because he's not good enough. Or he's lazy. Or the other guy was better than him, no matter what his skin color. I think the white people who have been here for two...
Make it bend — trees are flexible, so they don’t snap. Scar it, give it a twisted branch — perfect trees don’t exist. Nothing is perfect. Flaws are interesting. Be the tree.
I’m the girl who trips on the dance floor and can’t find her way to the exit. All eyes on me.
It is my first morning of high school. I have seven new notebooks, a skirt I hate, and a stomachache.
It is a pretend question, one he asked so he could give the answer. I relax. This is like when my father complains about his boss. The best thing to do is to stay awake and blink sympathetically.
It had become easier to lie about most things because it didn't hurt as much when he ignored me.
I'm just going to pretend that a very good-smelling, incredibly warm stranger is sitting next to me, a harmless stranger.
I was good at digging holes. It was the rest of life I sucked at.
I understood what triggered her earthquakes, most of them.
I knew how much it hurt to be the daughter of people who can't see you, not even if you are standing in front of them stomping your feet.
I don't know how they do it. I don't know how anybody does it, waking up every morning and eating and moving from the bus to the assembly line, where the teacherbots inject us with Subject A and Subje...
I didn't fit.I was a different size, a different shape. I kept trying to squeeze into a body, a skin suit, that was too small. It rubbed me the wrong way. I blistered. I callused. I scarred over and i...
I can't let me hear this, but it's too late. The facts sneak in and stab me.
How did she do all of these things?She was bold, brave, stubborn, and smart. And Sarah Hale had a secret weapon…
Here stands a girl clutching a knife. There is grease on the stove, blood in the air, and angry words piled in the corners.
Her eyes were tired, but we're seniors. All seniors have dead eyes.
Hannah was about to burst with excitement, which would have been disgusting because she would have sprayed blood, guts and glitter in every direction.
Halloween - the day when we could pretend to be whatever we wanted - seemed to be letting everyone be who they really were.
Hairwoman is torturing us with essays. Do English teachers spend their vacations dreaming up these things?
Gracie's father was an engineer, her mother an accountant. I couldn't picture either one of them yelling or throwing things or having affairs. I could see my dad doing stuff like that. Trish sure did....