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432 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 30, 2016
... I get the feeling that B.T.B. might not be in my honours classes."
"I unlock our doors and am getting in, when I hear Mary Carlson across the parking lot. "Oh look, B.T.B. Your friend drives a car. If she can do it, I know you can."
"'I just thought... well.. since y'all had been hanging out. You must think we're such idiots. Can we start over? Anybody who can put up with Barnum and his incessant elephant talk is destined to be my friend.'"
“Rome, Georgia, is definitely where queer girls go to die.”
“Kissing Mary Carlson is spooning homemade peach ice cream into your mouth on the hottest Georgia day. It is shooting stars and hot lava. It is every goose bump you’ve ever had in your entire life built up and exploding all at once.”
Gemma interrupts. "He can say penis. He has one. We have vaginas. And these are breasts." She holds her hands under her boobs and BTB blushes red under the yellow of his onesies' hood. "Why people want to call their parts things like bananas, and hoohoos, and the ladies, is beyond me. Be specific."
"Fine, then, Dr. Gemma," Betsy says. "Get your ripe gluteus maximus up those stairs so we can take the bras off our breasts."
"Nice frames." I point. [Mary Carlson]'s got on a huge pair of pink glasses instead of her usual ones.
She moves her hand up and fiddles with them, a little blush rising in her cheeks. "Eighth-grade me. I secretly wanted to be a K-pop star. I left my regular glasses at the club yesterday."
Mary Carlson sets us up at the far end, then pulls out a club from her bag. "Let's start with the six-iron and see how you do."(before they've even admitted feelings)
"You're the boss."
She flips her ponytail over her shoulder and looks sideways in my direction. "I like the way you say that."
Kissing Mary Carlson is spooning homemade peach ice cream into your mouth on the hottest Georgia day. It is shooting stars and hot lava. It is every goose bump you ever had in your entire life built up and exploding all at once. It is going to be the end of me, but I don't care.
"Look." Dana smiles through the computer screen. "This is not me being selfish, even though I do have one hundred and fifty legally earned dollars saved for our summer trip. This is me thinking about some chick in small town Georgia with a thousand-pound weight on her chest. If I were that girl, if I were ready to open it up for public viewing, I wouldn't want some lying bitch trying to keep me hidden." Dana shrugs and lifts her hands. "You haven't really been open with her."
My dad was already preaching sermons about tolerance and acceptance and all God's children long before I was even old enough to know what sexual attraction was, so coming out for me was a nonissue. It was pretty much 'Dad, I like girls' over dinner and him asking if I was sure and when I said yes, him telling me he loved me no matter what. (p. 263)
I wait a beat and then jump into our prepared talk about the holidays and consumerism and how really the season should be about holding those who are near to us dear." (p. 398)