If you want to call it quits, just tell me. Man up and say it to my face. Don’t just skulk around.

— J.M. Richards

I got through it, and I wore it like a badge of honor—I Can Be Alone, and it's Okay.

— J.M. Richards

I had always thought that I was fine with being alone. Halfway through high school, I moved from Brazil to America, and it took me forever to make friends. I had culture shock of virtually every kind, besides which I was awkward, geeky, and shy. So I ate alone, telling myself that it was fine while I watched other people have normal conversations with their friends.

— J.M. Richards

I know he’s a realist, he’s okay with being alone, and he helps people when he thinks no one is watching.

— J.M. Richards

I need you to just trust me for now without knowing all the answers.

— J.M. Richards

I said. “I’m fine. I have a little bit of a headache, but I’m not dizzy or nauseous. I can walk and talk just fine, and I can remember everything.” “Everything, huh? Don’t self-diagnose, Doctor Fisher. Do you remember when the Battle of Bunker Hill was fought?” “The what?” “The Battle of Bunker Hill. We covered it in World CIV.” “No, we did not.” “We did, too. The unit on the American Revolution.” “Davis, that was like, two years ago! I don’t remember stuff like that!” “So, not everything.” “Everything important.” “That happens to have been a very significant battle,” Davis reminded me, in a smug tone.

— J.M. Richards

I suddenly felt the way Cinderella might have felt if she hadn’t had that convenient midnight curfew: my feet were hurting, my hair was slipping free from its pins, and my makeup was getting all smudged from sweat. I was unbelievably tired, undeniably depressed, and I just wanted charming.

— J.M. Richards

I suppose that means you don’t want any band-aids, either,” I said, a touch more bitterly than I’d meant to.

— J.M. Richards

It’s so peaceful. I could go to sleep in here.” His eyes flickered to me once more, and for a dizzying second I wasn’t thinking about sleep or storms but about pressing my lips to his. I gave my head a slight shake and tried to slow my pulse

— J.M. Richards

It was nice. Even in high school, I’d mostly had makeshift friends forged by the shared status of outcast. It was rare for me to discuss things so easily to someone outside my family, but somehow Jill got me.

— J.M. Richards