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1 " Honestly, I'd rather be anywhere else. Even home, where my dad begins almost every conversation with, " You should lose the black clothes and wear something with color." Puh-lease. Like I want to look like every Barbie clone in Hell High, a.k.a. Oklahoma's insignificant Haloway High School. Ironically, Dad doesn't appreciate the bright blue streaks in my originally blond/now-dyed-black hair. Go figure. That's color, right? "
2 " Lena Ella Haloway Tiddle." I pronounce her full name, very slowly, partly because I need to reassure myself of her existence—Lena, my friend, the worried one, the one who always pleaded for safety first, who now makes secret appointments to meet with boys. " You have some explaining to do." " Hana, you remember Alex," Lena says weakly, as though that—the fact of my remembering him—explains any "
