Miranda and Joe met at middle school in Perkins, Oklahoma. Joe was a lumpy kid, not fat so much as unevenly proportioned. If his father hadn't been Deputy Chief of Police, Joe likely would have been ... [+]

Georgia lies in bed, eyes closed, curled into a ball, listening to the soft tick-tick-tick from the clock in the living room as it counts down the minutes until morning. The minutes tick into hours ... [+]

“Her moodiness...” my mother says in a loud whisper to Aunt Arlene. “It's those teenage hormones.”I glare at the back of her head. She'd be moody too if she were responsible ... [+]