"Jane! Psst! Jane… Jane, answer me!”

"Oh, ha, yeah, sorry Meg, just a little distracted lately”

“You don’t look so hot. Why are you sweating? It’s like negative thirty in here, I could cut glass…"

“Weird dreams."

"Daydreams… let me guess, Bricks is being a jerk again? We all couldn’t see him flirting with Crystal right in front of you, like barf me out, I would have decked him for you if you let me!"

"Meg, it’s fine, it’s not that, I’ve just, been a little sick I think, that’s all…"

"Oh say no more, I’ve got Midol in my purse if you need it."

"No, it’s not— …never-mind."

"Did you see Burchfield's notebook? What a loser, I mean sure, Rob Lowe is so choice but desperate much?"

"Ha, yeah..."

"Oh, also, Lacie Stevens is having a party this Saturday when her parents are out of town & we actually got invited!"

"Seriously? How? She never even talks to us."

"Steve & Bricks got invited & they're taking us!"

Whatever you’ve learned about high school from John Hughe’s movies isn't so much wrong, but rather a simultaneous dilution & exaggeration of the reality. Not that I have to tell you that if you actually experienced it yourself. While undoubtedly great films, they are so wildly reductionist it pains me. I am by no means popular, nor am I an outcast. Sure I’ve smoked pot, but I’m far from a stoner. I don’t wear Jordache & I’m not on the cheer squad, but I’m also not asking out Robert Smith anytime soon either, ya know? You don’t have to be just goth or prep, a nerd or a cool kid, I mean, this isn’t Sixteen Candles.