Heather Demetrios Quotes

Skylar's obviously into that Chris dude, I saw them in his sorry excuse for a truck, should have totaled it when I had the chance,

What am I supposed to do when I'm bad for the one good thing in my life?

It's only later that I'll see you're feeding me rehearsed lines and perfectly timed smiles and gasps and tears that come at precisely the right moment. A year from now I'll be screaming "Fuck you, FUCK YOU" into a pillow because I won't have the guts to say the words to your face.
But right now, a boy is staring at me from the end of the hall and even though he doesn't say a word, he's claimed me.
I'm new territory and you've planted your flag.

I grabbed the napkin wound around the silverware in front of me because paper was my lifeline and I needed to touch it, to know that maybe when I went home later, I could collage him and then it would all make sense, he would make sense. I hoped my fingers would remember the exact quality of the sunlight on his forehead, the shadows under his eyes.

Everything I was doing was like this chess game - full of second guesses, indecision, waiting.

This is something else I will learn while I am with you-not now, but later: there are so many ways to drown.

Asshat's an asshole," she cooed. "Yes, he is.

Fuck you for saying the perfect thing, Gavin.

I didn't want to go there, to those places he was describing, but I didn't want to be where he wasn't.

I don't like seeing myself on camera." But that's not it
that sounds shallow, like I'm worried I'll look fat or something. "It's like somebody is walking on my grave. TV immortalizes you. The episodes are what my family would watch if I died.

I'm tired. Like I-want-to-sleep-forever tired.

My life was being planned in sentences that started with 'We' instead of 'I', yet it felt like the most natural transition in the world.

Chess and you taking a picture of me reading Slaughterhouse-Five, telling me I'd need proof someday because nobody in Creek View would ever believe I had actually read a goddamn book, let alone five. Talking about God and why there's evil in the world and bitching because the Steelers won the Super Bowl. Camp Leatherneck, me not missing home at all and you missing it like crazy, always talking about going to college and how when you had leave you were gonna marry Hannah. And you wanted kids, and I said I didn't because people like me, we just end up disappointing one another and I'd probably be like my dad, and you told me I had to get over it, get over my dad and my mom and how screwed up everything is because you said, Josh, you're gonna have it all. I know it. You're gonna have it all. And for the first time, I'm almost believing that.

Here I went again, asking him out. But it felt like I didn't have any control. With him, I never knew what the hell I was gonna say or do.

With your lips on mine, your song still in my ears, I forget that I never said yes, that all of it - the dance, us - was a foregone conclusion. You told me to be your girlfriend. You didn't wait for me to answer about prom. I gave you my heart on a silver fucking platter and you ate it, piece by bloody piece.

Last words are a kindness and I am not feeling kind.

We all wear strange armor to get through the day.

I thought of all the summer evenings I'd spent sitting in the chairs under the trees beside the trailer, reading books that helped me escape Creek View, at least for a little while. Magical kingdoms, Russian love triangles, and the March sisters couldn't have been further away from the trailer park.

I didn't know there were so many ways to say I love you.

He tasted like hope and healing. He tasted like the future.

You can't screw up your own suicide and then expect the universe to give you presents wrapped in the skin of a wonderful boy. That's just not the way it works.

Crap. Like I could just go out and buy a new one - Look at me, I'm so rich I can throw calculators around! I stood and picked it up, shook it. Still worked.

Have you read my emails before?" I ask.
I try to keep my voice casual but I can hear the anxiety in it. The What the f*ck in it.

When you're a stupid girl in love, it's almost impossible to see the red flags. It's so easy to pretend they're not there, to pretend that everything is perfect.

Why do they make guys shave their heads when they become soldiers? It makes them look like lost kids.

How could someone hurt you so bad but you still wanted to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay?

I feel trapped in this car with you and for the first time since we've gotten together, I want to be somewhere you're not.

Gavin's a nice kid, but I'll tell you somthing: a guy like him - the kind who wants you to follow him around like a puppy dog - they're the ones you have to watch out for.

To me, it felt like such a failure. I never thought my mom and I would get that low. I wasn't ready to admit defeat.

...you turn and grab my chin--not hard, but the way you do with a child when you want them to focus on you. It feels strange, being touched this way by you. Parental. A siren goes off in the back of my mind, but I ignore it. (Oh god, Gavin, why did I ignore it? Why couldn't I see through you?")

I will bury myself alive. I will cut my skin to shreds. I swear I will, I will. And I'll burn this fucking house down if it means I can cut you loose, be free, be without Gavin Davis.

He was the parts of the day where I smiled.

When the store was empty again, I buried my head in my hands. I hadn't realized how much Josh had been helping me get through the summer until he wasn't there anymore. I wanted him to ask me how the Sky was. And then I wanted him to make it stop raining.

It was like the whole town was swimming in failure, but no one realized they were drowning.

He looks like the kind of boy who would jump trains, strum guitars, and pass a joint.

To have a point, to have a purpose, was its own kind of freedom.

I'm not Bonnie™ or Chloe. I'm the essence of her, the nontrademarked person the camera can never capture and my parents have no right to sign over. There is a sovereign nation encased in this skin that MetaReel can never trademark.

Away: that was the only command my body could respond to. Away Away Away.

Sometimes it was hard to breathe, knowing how small my world could be. Maybe in San Francisco it wouldn't feel like the universe was conspiring to keep me in a bubble.

You knew that if you survived that accident, there's no way I could ever leave you again. Not unless I want your blood on my hands. You're lucky your gamble paid off. Now you can do or say whatever you want, can't you. You've got me right where you've always wanted me.

You win.

I tried not to read anything into his being there; things like this weren't serendipitous when you lived in the smallest town ever.

Anytime someone tries to do the right thing, it's a terrible strategy.

This night felt like a last hurrah, like we could blaze our brightest, at the apex of our insane adolescence. This was our Mardi Gras before the dark days of Lent.

Everything - the moon, the fireworks, the fields - had an otherworldly beauty, and I shivered, greedy for these bits of loveliness the universe was throwing our way tonight.

I'm sitting here on the Kaye Gibbons Show, and all I can think is that the whole country is sick. Sick with the idea that it's good to be known as seen by as many people as possible, to show every part of our lives to the public at large. Whether it's Facebook photos, blogs, or reality TV, it's like nobody is content to just live life. The worth of our existence seems to be measured in pixels and megabytes and "likes." Those of use whose lives can be downloaded seem to have the most value – until someone outrageous comes along to claim their time in the spotlight.

The Josh I grew up around, with two legs and an ego that couldn't fit through the door? I didn't love him. I didn't even always like him." One corner of his mouth turned up. "This is who you are. The real you." I rested my forehead against his. "And I want you so fucking bad.

I'm starting to realize that she's my only real friend in the world right now. I can't lose that. I've tried so hard to play it safe with her, and I thought I was doing okay until I went all wounded warrior on her and ... fuck.

His brown eyes filled with worry, and I wished, not for the first time, that my heart could love him in a different way. It would have been so easy. So nice.

Sometimes I cry, wondering how it was possible that I could have been so goddamn weak, so f*cking spineless. Without you around, I can finally see all the ways you'd kept my heart shackled to yours.

Sometimes I wondered if I'd ever find something to fill those places inside me that never stopped wanting.

It occurred to me that we were the same, in a way. Both of us treading water, pushing against forces we couldn't control.

Was this what it meant to grow up, to move on?

She broke through the mess of me.

Might as well," she spit. "You know what it feels like, being friends with you guys? Do you have any idea how it sounds when you talk about how crappy this town is and how you'd rather die than end up saddled with a baby, living in a trailer park, broke as hell? Every time you say that, you're describing my life. A life I'm actually okay with - I'm sure as hell a lot happier than either of you.

and I bet Skylar tastes sweet, like the powdered sugar on those little white doughnuts

The war had come home, and it was ugly and senseless,

After graduation, we can just ... ride into the sunrise," he says. "The sunrise?" His lips twitch. "If we ride into the sunset, we'd wind up in the middle of the Pacific.

When you're a stupid girl in love, it's almost impossible to see the red flags. It's so easy to pretend they're not there, to pretend everything is perfect.

I raised my cup. "To Blake Mitchell - no, never mind. To me.

She was a kept thing, shackled to a master who would never let her go, locked in a cage of dreams.

It's not every day you get to watch the two people you care most about in the world fall in love.

Hate is a lot like love. It's warm and fills you up until every part of you is tingling to release it.

If I were a real Creek View girl, the kind Josh liked, I'd be hammered right now, not thinking about my dead father.

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?" I opened my mouth to say San Francisco or maybe Madrid - somewhere exotic. But what came out was, "Here. Right here.

My eyes roved over the walls covered with my collages and prints of famous paintings. Magritte, Kandinsky, Kahlo. My origami shapes hung from fishing wire, dangling over my bed. They shivered in the slight breeze blowing through my open window. It was my own little escape pod, but none of it was enough tonight.

But I knew it was too much to wish that Creek View would be wiped off the face of the earth forever. The other towns needed us: you can't have the light without the dark, right? Maybe our darkness was necessary for other people to see their light.

People that don't wake up every morning feeling like what's the point will never understand. It's impossible. They say: exercise, meditate, think happy thoughts, snap out of it, wear this crystal, drink this tea, find your goddamn bliss. But I literally - and I am not exaggerating - do not remember a time when I was truly happy.

A little bit closer to the stars, anything seemed possible.

Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimetrrs inside your skull

I don't really know what it means to move on, but lately, with Sky, I'm starting to feel like I want to because when I look at her, I don't see you or the war or any of the shit in my head. I just see her, and it's like suddenly I can breathe again after holding my breath for so long.

She is a slave, with no way home.

You're a maze, all high edges and endless loops. I can't find a way out, can't see where I've been. It's all running, lost in the dark of you. Trapped. Everywhere I turn is a dead end. I keep winding up back where I've started.

I'm telling you - guys like Gavin, they're real snakes in the grass.

I can't believe I only knew you for a year and a half - how can one person change you in two football seasons? But you did.

I know you don't like me," Kes said to her. "And, frankly, I don't like you. But please do me the service of shutting the fuck up. I'm doing the best I can.

Sex.

It's the last thing I want, but how could I possibly say that to my boyfriend who I've been with for almost a year?

The moon's not big enough to wish on. Nothing is.

The wind gusted through the palms and the fronds rubbed together like crumpled tissue paper. It carried the scent of manure and gasoline and the orchard behind the fence. It blew under the thin material of my dress, and I shivered when it slipped over my skin. I envied its reckless abandon, the way it touched without fear.

Your master is weak because he loves. You are strong because you hate. In the end you are winner, jinni-girl.

Each lie is something that's mine, that my mom and The Giant can't take away from me. Each lie reminds me I'm an actual person with rights and desires and the ability to make choices on her own. Each lie is power - control over my life.