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It’s like they can’t love each other without anger
“I’m just saying it’s a little hard to change when you have a journal telling you who to be.”
But, for the first time, I’m considering how toxic it might be, writing in stone who I am, and who I should be.
You look so gorgeous.”
“So, so gorgeous.”
“Yes! You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“You’re gorgeous,
“Quinn, you’ve always been beautiful. You know that.”
I think I wouldn’t be here if a part of me didn’t want to be here. Wherever “here” may be. And if being “here” is a mistake, I think I’ll probably learn something from it—something that I need to learn. There are enough closed doors and glass ceilings in the world. My comfort zone shouldn’t be
one of them.
Jackson.”
Jackson?”
Jackson.”
“I’m scared,” I whisper. “Just do it.” And without giving it a second thought, I press my lips against his.
“Quinn, I know you are. What matters is that you’re here now.”
“Home is not a place. Home is in here.” She pats her hand over her heart. She says, “Don’t you fear, I’m right here.”
wasted so much time living in fear that I thought I was comfortable, but I was writhing in a cage that I didn’t know existed, making lists of all my worries with no intent to do anything about them.
Making lists of all my fears kept me from ever facing them.
She doesn’t understand that she can’t talk about Black people without talking about me too. She doesn’t understand that using the N-word in any context is never a joke. Not for me, it isn’t.
Maybe the only thing I need to remember is my name, who I love, and what I love about life. That’s all Hattie remembers. Maybe that’s all that matters.
I was mad is never a good excuse,
“I want you to be able to celebrate our differences. I need you to be aware that our differences will get us different outcomes in life. And I need you to know that just because I don’t fit into your stereotypes, that doesn’t mean I’m any less Black.”
gorgeous. She’s gorgeous.
and a boy who isn’t perfect, but who’s patient and whose light shines over all my darkness. Like finally.
