Puddin' (Dumplin', #2)

by Julie Murphy

The truth is I’ve spent most of my life thinking of food in terms of point systems and calorie charts, and, for me, exercising only existed for the sake of becoming someone I’m not instead of taking care of who I am.

Secretly, I was pleased, because fear of missing out is a real thing and I suffer from stage four.

I hit send before I can even check for spelling errors, which is huge, because I believe in accurate spelling just about as much as I believe in the Oxford comma and the truth that Andie and Duckie should have ended up together in Pretty in Pink.

so I officially give zero shits.

“Girls don’t have to be nice,” she says simply. “But they should stick together.” She shakes her head. “The wider world wants you to think other women are drama . . . or catty. But that’s just because when we work together, we’re unstoppable.”

“Even the wrong direction sometimes feels better than no direction at all.”

I take a few pieces of popcorn and toss them in my mouth with a Milk Dud, because I’m an enlightened genius.

I don’t get how she just feels everything so hard. That must require some serious energy.

Fat girl pride. Riots not diets and all that.”