Favorite Lines
~That is not what you say to someone who’s mother is having your baby. You say something like, “Excuse me, Mia, may I see you a moment?” Then you take the daughter of the woman with whom you have committed this heinous indiscretion out into the hallway, where you fall on bended knee to grovel and beg for her approval and forgiveness. That is what you do (p. 4).
~I know it takes two to tango, but please, my mother is a painter. He is an Algebra teacher. You tell me who is supposed to be the responsible one (p. 5).
~We totally bonded in first grade, the day Orville Lockhead dropped trou in front of us in the line to the music room. I was appalled, having never seen male genitalia before. Lilly, however, was unimpressed. She has a brother, you see, so it was no big surprise to her. She just looked Orville straight in the eye and said, “I’ve seen bigger.” And you know what? Orville never did it again. So you can see that Lilly and I share a bond that is stronger than mere friendship (p. 10).
~And what about Fat Louie? How is he going to react to having a baby in the house? He is starved enough for affection as it is, considering I’m the only person who remembers to feed him. He might try to run away, or maybe move up from eating just socks to eating the remote control or something (p. 12).
~And may I just point out that alfalfa sprouts can be deadly for a newly developing fetus? We have alfalfa sprouts in our refrigerator. Our refrigerator is a deathtrap for a gestating child. There is BEER in the vegetable crisper (p. 14).
~Then Grandmère made me get out a piece of paper and write down exactly what Vigo said, so that, she informed me, in four years, when I am in college, and I take it into my head to enter into a romantic liaison with someone completely inappropriate, I will know why she is so mad (p. 106).
~And then I felt even worse for her, because she is so obviously living in principal fantasy world (p. 126).
~But it makes me mad Boris knows things about Lilly that I don’t know. I tell Lilly everything. Well, everything except how I feel about her brother. Oh, and about my secret admirer. And about my mom and Mr. Gianini. But I tell her practically everything else (p. 131).
~Michael is no help. He isn’t worried about his sister at all. In fact, he seems to find the situation highly amusing. I have pointed out to him that for all we know, Lilly and Hank could have been kidnapped by Libyan terrorists, but he says he finds that unlikely. He things it more reasonable to assume that they are enjoying an afternoon showing at the Sony Imax. As if. Hank is totally prone to motion sickness (p. 153).
~“But do you really think you’d be happy, Mia, being Nancy Normal Teenager?” Um. Yes. Except I wouldn’t want my name to be Nancy (p. 204).
~Kenny, beside me, started saying stuff like, “It’s a shame you have to go so early,” and “So, Mia, can I call you?” This last question caused Lilly to look from me to Kenny and then back again. Then she looked at Michael. Then she stood up, too. “Come on, Al,” she said, giving Boris a tap on the head. “Let’s blow this juke joint.” Only of course Boris didn’t understand. “What is a juke joint?” he asked. “And why are we blowing it” (p. 219).
~Michael, who ended up standing beside me, waiting for his turn to get into the car, said, “What I meant to say before, Mia, was that you look…you look really…” I blinked up at him in the pink-and-blue light from the neon Round the Clock sign in the window behind up. It’s amazing, but even bathed in pink-and-blue neon, with fake intestines hanging out of his shirt, Michael still looked totally – “You look really nice in that dress,” he said all in a rush (p. 221).
Back~Home