Anika

“That's the second reporter to call me 'boyish.'"
"Boyish is nice," Dee offers.
He tips his head towards her. "I'm nineteen. I'm not boyish."
"It's your hair," I tell him without glancing up from the magazine, and Dee laughs.
"My hair?" he asks, incredulous. "What's wrong with my hair?"
"Nothing. But you had it that way when you were younger, right? During the Finch Four years?"
He frowns. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know."

"Yeah," Dee says. "You did. Same haircut. Kind of almost shaggy."
"Shaggy?"

"Yeah." I gesture near his ear. "It sort of starts to curl right here. The look is a little..."
Dee and I both study his face for a moment.
"...boyish," Dee decides.
We both giggle, and Matt's eyes widen as if we've betrayed him. "Girls are mean! I'm bailing out of this bus at the next rest stop."
"Unlikely," I tell him.”
― Emery Lord, Open Road Summer

“That dress is couture," the stylist calls nervously before I can answer. The poor woman's eyes display sheer horror, like she's watching peanut salt fall onto the dress in slow motion.

"Oh no," Dee says sarcastically. "Well, good thing I didn't eat it.”
― Emery Lord, Open Road Summer

“carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man”
― Ali Hazelwood, The Love Hypothesis

“Sadie was still a kite.
"You can turn back now," I told her.
She tilted her head and regarded me quizically. She let out a frustrated croak.
I cracked a smile. "You can't, can you? You're stuck?
She pecked my hand with her extremely sharp beak.
"Ow!" I complained. "It's not my fault. Keep trying."
She closed her eyes and ruffled her feathers until she looked like she was going to explode, but she stayed a kite.
"Don't worry," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "Bast will help once we get out of here.”
― Rick Riordan, The Red Pyramid