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Steam swirled inside my bubble, a closed lid on a pot about to boil.
LOVE the figurative language all throughout this book.
That’s why if Ma was a color, she’d be pink with her sweetness. A tender flower, a bubbly pop of chewing gum, two scoops of strawberry ice cream. Silly in her girly ways, her color deepens with love, until she glows fuchsia—bright and bold, unstoppable. But when she is not fed the riches that life promises, Ma pales, remaining but a tint above white, a color aching in want.
my mommy🩷
The thing about church elders is they have the worst memories. What they say happened yesterday could have happened three years ago.
Rumors are born with legs that can run a mile in less than a minute. Rumors eat up dreams without condiments. Rumors do not have expiration dates. Rumors can be deadly. Rumors can get you killed.
I sat in the back of the room with The Secret Life of Bees streaming through my headphones.
this book/movie <<<<
“I’m sorry. It’s against policy.” She stood up, patting her hair down. “Now, I’m going to get a cup of coffee. Michael, I think there’s something wrong with my computer. Do you mind taking a look? I’ll be back in five minutes.”
lowkey reminds me of the notebook!!!
But finding Monday . . . outweighed all the risk. How could I ever even consider giving up on her? She’d never give up on me.
awesome but how do you KNOW that??? see there's something fishy about this whole situation…
“Claudia, Monday died two years ago,” Ma said gently, grabbing my wrist to keep me steady. “Her and August were . . . were . . .”
TWO YEARS AGO?!
Almost seven years of photos of us dancing, decorating Christmas trees, trick-or-treating . . . and they cut me out of every one. Like “we” never existed. In the program, I’m always a mysterious arm, linked with hers.
…idek what to do with myself
For a change, I finally understood how our mutual resentment grew from the same seed of jealousy. I resented that April knew a whole other Monday. That they were real sisters, something I could never compete with. April resented the kind of sisters Monday and I were—soul sisters.
