Feels like I'm in a play and I don't know all my lines.

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.

If you believe you can read you can

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.

They linger near the back door, forehead to forehead and curved like statues as their lips whisper and brush together.

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

It's the intent, not the word, that makes something harsh.