Oh baby," he whispers. Steps back. Out of the doorway. His face ashen. He walks slowly back to the kitchen. Leans over the counter. Puts his head in his hands. His hair falls over his fingers. The bathroom door clicks shut. She stays there for a long time. He's pulling his hair out.

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.

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

Get me outa here. F*ckin' creepy cheerleaders.

Once you read something, you can't erase it from your brain.

I highly regret this day in advance.

Carrie doesn't seem to talk about anything with sharp edges. Maybe she's afraid they might poke her and then she'd burst.