Rachel Vail Quotes

You planning top kill me with a Wiffle bat?" [Carson asked]
"Yeah."
"Why?" he asked.
The bat was shaking in my tight grip. "Because I don't have my Minnie Mouse pillow.

I keep looking for ultimate answers, but maybe there aren't any or maybe I'm not looking in the right places, because in the section marked ANSWERS in the back of my geometry book, there's only a bunch of numbers, and all I can find to stare at in the refrigerator is five carrots and a jar of no-fat mayonnaise.

Consent is really too low a bar. Hold out for enthusiasm.

Please, we're in high school. Hook up and move on.

Do you think we're being robbed?" I whispered.
He nodded gravely, then crawled over to my closet and opened it.
"Did you want to borrow something more formal to wear for the robbery? I'm not sure I have anything in your size."
"Shh," he whispered. "Don't you at least have a tennis racket or anything?"
"You think they came here looking for a doubles partner?"
He turned quickly and gave me a look, then whipped a Wiffle bat out of the mess.
"Wow," I said. "You jock-type people really are single-minded, aren't you? Uh-oh, we're being robbed. Let's play ball!"
"It's for a weapon," Carson whispered.
"You're gonna hit them with a Wiffle bat?"
"What else you got?"
"Um...A pillow"
"Exactly" ... "Stay behind me," he whispered.
"Can I just say that I never knew this about me before, but weirdly enough this whole protective he-man thing actually turns me on."
"Josie."
"What," I asked.
"Shut Up."
I grabbed my pillow, just in case, so to speak, and tiptoed behind him around the mussed-up bed. "Maybe we should just hide in the closet."
He turned around, rolled his eyes and kissed me. "Shh," he repeated.

Sometimes sluttiness is a sign of intense longing.

It's just one of those things, like some people don't sink when they go in the pool, some know how to throw a ball so it goes toward the person holding the mitt. I have no idea how people do those things; I'm good at schoolwork. That works out well because it frees up my time for my hobbies, like lying on the couch eating M&M's.

You can't own your victories if you won't admit your failures.

I have standards. Well, okay, they're love standards, but I have them.

Some of the choices teenagers make are morally and practically wrong. Some of my characters do things I hope my child won't. There are occasionally words my characters choose that I wouldn't utter in my mother's presence. But when I was sixteen, or twelve, hanging out with my friends? That was different. For a story to feel real, I have to respect what a character would really do or say.

Come on Josie." He leaned closer and whispered in my ear, "I really want you there."
"Yeah?" I asked, slamming my locker shut. "And do you always get what you want?"
"Yes," he said.

I shoved him off the snowmobile. He landed on his back in the snow. Love is a brat, you think? No, love id fine. You are the brat, you spoiled, rotten brat!

Young people are growing in plain sight, there is no place for them to hide, no cocoon. It's hard

I didn't care who kissed you first as long as I kissed you last.
-George from If We Kiss

I am a pacifist, danm it! And now I'm bleeding. What is wrong with you, you sick sicko?

Bruises on the soul hurt even more than bruises on the leg and take longer to heal. Maybe the trick is to try to avoid smashing into stuff so much. And then to be kind to ourselves as we slowly heal.

Pushing Carson back out of the door, I grabbed my jacket off the hook and shoved my feet into the great old clogs that my poor podiatrist father wants outlawed.
"Don't you want to change or something?" Mom called after me.
"She'll never change," Carson answered, and followed me down the steps.
I settled myself into the passenger seat and buckled up as he back out of the driveway. "Your arches are falling?"
"Turns out I am deeply flawed," I admitted.

Kids are constantly evolving, learning, and growing. They aren't who they were yesterday.