11 Quotes by Laekan Zea Kemp

What's the voice telling you now?" Chloe says.I pluck the thought like a poison berry and force it to my lips. "That I can't do this."Chloe tightens her grip on me. "And what do you say back?"Another thought blooms on my lips, the taste this time somewhere between bitter and sweet. "That I will.

You’re not going to disappear,” I said. “I won’t let you”.“Even if this is all there is? Going to school and working at my uncle’s restaurant and fighting with Mari? Why would anyone want to remember this?”“I want to remember you. Just like this.”She rolled onto her back, hands covering her face, and I pulled them away.“People like you don’t disappear,” I said.“Then where do they go?”“Everywhere.

Then he kissed her without breathing, without thinking. He kissed her until his entire body was tingling from the taste of her.

Because the truth was I was tired. I was tired of fighting but more importantly I was tired of losing, of being disappointed.

But maybe I could give myself something too—permission to keep trying. Even when it felt like it was all for nothing. Even if trying was all I ever did, I shouldn’t stop.

My lip trembled, my throat raw, and I started to cry. But not because I didn’t look perfect. But because I looked healthy and because I wasn’t sure how long I’d stay that way.

If I had to pull an all-nighter studying for a test or too many looming deadlines had me pulling out my hair, I wouldn’t end up with just some trendy coffee addiction. I’d end up in a mini-coma, face down in the middle of the studio or on the floor of the community showers.

Dani’s mild eating disorder was definitely the most annoying thing about her. One Christmas break I’d gained ten pounds and went up two cup-sizes—a post episode binge that finally made me look normal, like a woman. I would have killed to hold onto that version of me and all Dani did was count calories and complain about her non-existent cellulite. She was lucky. Most people were, they just couldn’t see it.

I list what I had for breakfast.I whisper the ingredients for my signature coconut cake.I take a deep breath, the scents of a thousand shifts at the restaurant tucked into the fabric of the front seat. I start listing them too: mango and cilantro and epazote, tomatillos and roasted pepitas and tortillas.The truth is, I can't sleep without those smells tangled in my hair.