“I can teach you self-defense, like I’ve been teaching Hannah.” “I want to fight,” Quinn said. “Not like those stupid boys. Not with glass bottles and snowballs and slingshots, but for real.” “Aren’t you sixteen?” “So what? Boys that young and younger fought in the Civil War.” He narrowed his eyes. “Those were boys. You’re a girl.” “I fail to see how a pair of boobs will negatively affect my ability to pull a trigger. If it’s strength you’re worried about, I’m strong. I can get stronger.”
