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321 pages, Hardcover
First published September 22, 2015
“You think what happened to Stacey was fair game. It was boys being boys. Just a trashy girl learning the hard way what can happen when she drinks too much and wears a short skirt.”
“Well, I just think it’s awful what that Stallard girl is doing to them. Dragging their good names through the mud.”
“Look, this is not rocket science. It’s common sense. If you don’t want to work a guy into a lather, keep your cooch covered up.”
Nothing is exactly as it appears.
The closer you look, the more you see.

"Words have meanings. When we call something a theory in science, it means something. Reggie, when you say that you 'can't help yourself' if a girl is wasted, that means something, too. You're saying that our natural state as men is 'rapist'. (...) That's not okay with me, Reggie."







Boys will be boys.
“You don’t get wasted. You don’t take off your top. You don’t flirt with raging drunks.” She leans in and grips the edge of the table, lowering her voice. “You don’t dress like a slut. You have to play by the rules. If you don’t, this is what happens.”
“Not being able to say no isn't the same as saying yes.”
“Boys will be boys' is what people say to excuse guys when they do something awful.”
“Some moments should only be recorded in our hearts.”





What does it mean to say yes? To consent to a kiss? To a touch? To more than that?
The closer you look, the more you see.
"I only know that when you wear sexy clothes, guys get all turned on, and if you're drunk and they're drunk, you have to be really careful."
. . .
"What if she didn't tell them no because she couldn't? What if she was too drunk to do anything?"
"And whose fault is that?"
The layers of my life will slowly cover and fill the gulf cleft through my heart. But deep in the bedrock of who I am is a record of these things that I will carry with me, a new map whose boundaries have forever altered the way I view the world.
"'Boys will be boys' is what people say to excuse guys when they do something awful."
Will nods. He swipes at his eyes. "Nobody does," he whispers. "Nobody deserves this."
"Words have meanings. When we call something a theory in science, it means something. Reggie, when you say that you 'can't help yourself' if a girl is wasted, that means something, too. You're saying that our natural state as men is 'rapist'."
"That's not okay with me, Reggie." He points at the list on the whiteboard. "That's not okay with the rest of this class, either."



“All I’m saying is there are rules. You don’t get wasted. You don’t take off your top. You don’t flirt with raging drunks. You don’t dress like a slut. You have to play by the rules. If you don’t, this is what happens.”
“Well, I just think it’s awful what that Stallard girl is doing to them. Dragging their good names through the mud. If you ask me, they oughta arrest her mother and put that poor girl in a good Christian home.”
“Nothing is exactly as it appears. The closer you look, the more you see.”
She says the word feminist like Will did last night—with scorn and derision—as if she’s spitting something out.
“Why does everybody say ‘feminist’ that way?”
“What way?”
“The way Dooney kept saying ‘herpes’ after health class last year. Like it’s this terrible, unspeakable thing.”
"That's just the way guys are," says Christy.
You lose track of the lie.
By curtain call, the music has made you completely forget the whole point of the plot - the takeaway of this entire story - which is that Sandy decides that what Danny wants is more important than what she wants.
"Look at us, Kate. We're not like her. You're not like her."
"You don't get wasted. You don't take off your top. You don't flirt with raging drunks."
Her abs are clearly defined, the muscles in her arms ropy and straining like an aging pop star's, with too little fat on her body and too much Pilates on her schedule.