How are we supposed to get in?”
Stella kicked the metal shutter.
“Fool of a Took!” Jamie hissed through his teeth. “If someone’s in there, they probably heard that.

My chest, Stella’s hip, Jamie’s left ass cheek.

Names?' the receptionist asked us.
“Jesus,” Jamie answered.
“Mary,” said Stella.
“Satan,” I said as I walked past her and pushed open the door to Ira Ginsberg’s office.

You could write a comic book about the many adventures of her vagina. It could wear a cape.

Jamie(reading his personal file): "'Patient demonstrates extreme sarcasm and enduring bitterness; sees things in terms of extremes, such as either all good or all bad. His views of others change quickly, leading to intense and unstable relationships. Patient demonstrates conflict about sexual orientation and is preoccupied with the sexual histories of others. Demonstrates a classic pattern of identity disturbance, an unclear,unstable self-image, as well as impulsivity and emotional instability.'"
"This is bullshit. We're teenagers, we are supposed to be sarcastic"

Mara: "And preoccupied with sex"

Noah: "And impulsive"

Jamie: "Exactly! But we're in here and they're out there? Everyone's a little crazy. The only difference between us and them is that they hide it better.

You don’t get what you do for him. You’re like his manic pixie dream girl or something.” Jamie thought for a second. “Actually, more like his psychotic demon nightmare thing, but whatever. You get my point.