Once Charles arrived, Franny would start laughing the way she had when she was twenty-four, and the rest of them could start setting one another on fire for all she cared. That’s what best friends...

There was nothing in life harder or more important than agreeing every morning to stay the course, to go back to your forgotten self of so many years ago, and to make the same decision.

Yes, it was true that Franny had gotten thicker in the last decade, but that was what happened unless you were a high-functioning psychotic, and she had other things to think about. Franny knew plenty...

Families were nothing more than hope cast out in a wide net, everyone wanting only the best.

Some people smoked crack in alleyways. Franny ate chocolate. On the scale of things, it seemed entirely reasonable.

She had the wild look of someone who hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours, with purplish semicircles underneath both her eyes. Being eighteen was like being made out of rubber and cocaine.

…all she wanted was a button she could push to pause her age, just for a little while, a few years, while she got used to the idea.