“Which color?” he asks, holding up a green and a yellow ball. His knuckles are flecked with a different-colored paint now. Eggshell blue. “What if I say red?” “Then I guess I’ll have to go wade through the creek and… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“I can’t be the only one. There have to be other people out there who see the Mr. Twister mascot for what he is:… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“Burger.” Soup scrapes a patty off the grate for me and deposits it onto the open bun. “Extra juicy just for you.” “Thanks.” “Eat… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“Mo drives to his house. We both get out and meet around front of the truck’s bug-smeared grille. He hesitates, then hugs me. “You… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“I could feel myself shrinking. I couldn't move, not even to blink or breathe. Soon I'd be nothing at all.” — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“You okay?” she asks. “I think so. You?” “Yeah.” The courthouse looks like it’s burning under the morning sun. The flame-orange shimmer of hot… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“He'd said all the right things today. He'd been exactly who I needed him to be, dug through all the layers to get to… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“I like the scars because I like the stories. Bravery, stupidity, pain—none of them come free.” — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“How about I give you a hin instead?" "Sure. I'm sure a hint's all I need anyway." "You think you're pretty smart then?" he… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“That's to British," I countered. "What is?" "Making sweeping generalizations about Americans because that makes you feel better about having a national inferiority complex… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
“I don’t know a thing about jazz.” “That’s okay.” He pulled me toward the door and opened it. “You know music. Jazz will explain… — Jessica Martinez Copy Share Image
