What do you think?
Rate this book
402 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 16, 2012
Right and wrong were so much clearer from a distance, or in a sermon, or in somebody else's life. But this was so muddy and real, I couldn't even see Charly in it, and she was right in front of me.
I used to know exactly what kind of girl got pregnant, and exactly what kind of girl got an abortion, and Charly wasn't either. Except Charly was pregnant. So either I didn't know who she was at all, or she was an exception to the rule - accidentally shuffled into the teenage slut category. [p.74]
"You have no idea how much my feet hurt," she moaned.
"Your fourteen-week-old fetus is how big - half a pound?"
"What's your point?"
"Just checking."
"It's not about how big it is. It's everything. My skin itches, my back hurts, my nose is plugged up, I feel like I'm going to puke, my joints kill, I have heartburn and the hiccups, and when I stand too long my vision starts to look carbonated around the edges. I think even my blood hurts. My body is being taken over by aliens."
"Congratulations. You've convinced me never to have children." [pp.106-7]
"What's your aunt like?"
"I don't know. We've only talked for a couple of minutes so far." That was both true and false. We had only talked for a couple of minutes, but I was pretty sure I knew what she was like: She was a bartender with at least one tattoo and several piercings, she sang in a band and had screwed around in high school and lived in an apartment owned by a boyfriend who wanted her to quit nursing school. Oh, and she was trying way too hard. "Charly loves her." [p.145]
"I'm not bitter," I said, not looking at him, but knowing he wasn't looking at me. "I just miss my life. My friends and my house and Charly, or the old Charly. And then a couple of weeks ago I found out I didn't get into Columbia, and that was my big plan, you know? My way out of Tremonton." Why was I telling him this? It was like the words were forcing their way out, like rising bubbles. "Instead I'm chained to my screwed up sister so everyone doesn't figure out how screwed up she really is."
Ezra opened his mouth, then closed it again, and in the silence of his hesitation I heard myself. I sounded girly. And stupid and needy. Blood rushed to my face, completing my humiliation. Blushing. I might as well have been naked.
"Who's everyone?"
"What?"
"You said so everyone doesn't figure out. What does it matter what people think?"
I paused. "I guess..." He had no idea what it was like being the pastor's daughter, being Charly's sister, being constantly scrutinized. "It's less about what people think, more about her. I can't just abandon her."
"I get it."
Probably not.
"You don't think I do," he said, "but I do. She's your lost cause. You can't let her go." [pp.213-4]