I realized I would be forced to run away from home if someone tried to arrange a marriage for me. I didn't want to think about it.

Maybe Jess was caught up with these ridiculous, impossible ideas because it meant she never had to try for something real.

I love the story of a thing. I love a thing for what it means a thousand times more than for what it's worth.

The only time she's come close to being "known" was when she accidentally came out as bisexual during sophomore English class while talking about her favorite poem.

I think . . . I've got everything I want.

Jess is painfully aware of how young she is. Her shirtsleeves don't quite extend to her wrists; after a growth spurt last summer, her debate clothes don't fit as well as she thought. She feels as if she's playing dress-up.

I don't know what I was looking for . . . I felt empty. I guess. Not hearing from you made it all seem surreal, like you were never there, a dream, a figment of my imagination.I went to your site that day to . . . I guess, double-check.I thought. . . maybe you wrote something, a new story . . . a message . . . anything.I did find a new story . . . It wasn't about us . . .And I ended up feeling even emptier.

Jess is too big for her skin, as if she might float away in the exhilarating possibility of the moment.

What's the best way to say because it's too embarrassing to talk to a crush about sex and read an explicit thing they wrote while they're right there?

She looks great in that skirt. Her butt is so cute.