The Art of Being Normal

And even though I know that there’s a ton of stuff ahead I’m so terrified about I can’t breathe sometimes, tonight I can’t help but feel like no matter how hard it gets, everything might just be OK in the end.

get that social isolation is exactly what I’m after

can feel the familiar knot in my stomach forming

fat tears rolling down her face.

‘Participating?’ I ask, screwing up my face. ‘Participating in what?’
Jenny sighs again. ‘In life, Leo. I want you to start participating in life.’

stuck out like a sore thumb

heave myself off

lesson before the inevitable happy ending, and for about the hundredth time this summer I mourn my life’s failure to follow the plot of a perky teenage movie. Dad drops off halfway through and starts snoring loudly.

reaky Friday. It’s about a mother and daughter who eat an enchanted fortune cookie that makes them magically swap bodies for the day. Of course everyone learns a valuable

my French vocabulary in my head over and over and over, until, finally, I must fall asleep