Lisa McMann (born February 27, 1968) is an American author.
With the notebook resting ominuslously on Janie's bed, Janie procrastinates. Does her homework first. And pours herself a bowl of ceral. Breakfast - one of the five most important meals of the day. Not to be skipped.
I lurve you, circus freak," Cabel says. It almost hurts to hear him say that. I lurve you, too, you big lumpy monster man," Janie says. That hurts even more to say.
You're asking for trouble, Hannagan," he growls. "And you would be. . . . ?" Janie asks. She giggles. "Trouble.
Because there's no way on earth she's going to make it through college unless she grows some serious ovaries and turns this train wreck around
Carrie doesn't seem to talk about anything with sharp edges. Maybe she's afraid they might poke her and then she'd burst.
She sits in the driveway, freezing, for thirty-six minutes. Arguing with herself. Because she thinks she's in love with him too. And there are two ways she can be a fool in love right now. She chooses the harder one. And knocks on the door.
There's something about a guy who admits he's a jerk that makes him forgiveable.
Janie: Did you ever sell drugs? Cabel: Yes. Pot. Ninth and tenth grade. I was, uh. . . rather troubled back then. Janie: Why did you stop? Cabel: Got busted, and Captain made me a better deal. Janie: So you've been a narc since then? Cabel: I cringe at your terminology.
. . . she's leaving now. . . . Janis attacks the back door of the school gym and finds herself in a heavy cloud of smoke. She realizes she's found the Goths' hangout. Who knew? "Oof," someone says. She keeps walking, muttering, "sorry" to whomever it was she hit with the flying door. *** Cabel:. . . That was the Goth stage where I decided I'd never get the girl of my dreams because of my scars. Not to mention the hairstyle. (pause) But then she slammed a door handle into my gut. And, when a girl does that to a boy, it means she likes him.
Hippie said he couldn't stay. Be back tomorrow -Love,Mom
They have an unusual relationship. And when things are good, it's magic.
And then they kiss. Slowly, gently. Because with the right person, sometimes kissing feels like healing.
With practice, you will master your own dreams.
Jacian Obregon. It sounds like a melody. Or a tragedy.
The phone rings. “Asshole,” she mutters. She picks it up. “Will you let me explain?” “No. ” She hangs up.
A trapped soul waits for redemption. It waits. And waits. For her to take her last breath.
It's just the end of some things. And the beginning of others.
Janie’s hip buzzes again. Maybe she'll have to have her whole leg amputated, she thinks sadly. That would really suck.
I highly regret this day in advance.
He kisses her. She kisses him. They kiss.