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.

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.

The phone rings. “Asshole,” she mutters. She picks it up. “Will you let me explain?” “No.” She hangs up.

Do you still love me, Janie?' Janie stares at him, incredulous. 'Yes, of course! I don't say it lightly.' 'Say it lightly in my ear,' he demands. She smiles, rests her soft cheek on his scratchy one, and whispers it. 'I love you, Cabe.

It's just the end of some things. And the beginning of others.

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

Are you okay?" she whispers, giggling. Me? Oh sure. You might have to carry me out of here, though." What happened?" I created a distraction." I gathered that." Step stool, encyclopedias, floor." I see. Well, I can't thank you enough." Sure you can. Help me flunk enough tests, so I drop out of the 'torian range." Can't you just tell Abernethy that you have a reputation as a dumbshit to keep up, and you don't want the attention?" Flunking is more fun.