Having a friend made everything else suck less.

So, she tells me, the words dribbling out with the cranberry muffin crumbs, commas dunked in her coffee.

I shake my head. I pick up the rake and start making the dead-leaf pile neater. A blister pops and stains the rake handle like a tear. Dad nods and walks to the Jeep, keys jangling in his fingers. A mockingbird lands on a low oak branch and scolds me. I rake the leaves out of my throat. Me: "Can you buy some seeds? Flower seeds?

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 like cheeseburgers too much to be a model.

There is no safer. There’s not even safe, never has been.

I am so sorry. I wish you knew even one tenth of one percent of how sorry I am. ...It was my fault. Can I kill myself here, or should I do it outside, so the mess on your carpet doesn't upset your mother?