give in or consent reluctantly
“Stop,” she tries, but she’s weak today. Sometimes, you just need to give in. It’s like the pain of punishment, when it’s a craving you
pathetically lacking in force or effectiveness
She ignores Will’s calls that night. She ignores his messages, even if he’s crying in one of them.
As a power move, it is so
lame—rejecting his rejection.
blemished by injury or rough wear
It’s just about feeling good and powerful again. In terms of power, though, beauty is like glass, isn’t it? Shining, but transparent and easily
a legendary bird that burned to death and emerged reborn
“You survived. You are the
Phoenix!” They’d been on the phone for hours the night before, Gina interrupting with feed-your-heartbreak homemade macaroni and cheese and bowls of ice cream.
having momentous consequences; of decisive importance
Here is where the memory starts to hurt her. Will, Kat, her own rejected self—each
fateful piece sears her.
become superficially burned
Here is where the memory starts to really hurt. Will, Kat, her own rejected self—each fateful piece
the act of providing vague advance indications
“Yum, ashy bone soup,” he says as he dunks the frame in. This is not some big
foreshadowing moment. He’s just being funny.
admit or acknowledge, often reluctantly
“Mojo is sometimes about boys.”
providing no shelter or sustenance
The factory is now a ghost town, with abandoned buildings and FOR LEASE signs. Her internal landscape is
bleak. A dry wind whistles through.
showing or having sympathy for another's suffering
“Oh my God! Sweetheart.” The woman’s voice goes from
compassionate to alarmed as she takes in the fallen girl with the chopped hair.
raise in a relief
The towel is from Grandpa Ed’s trip to Niagara. There’s an
embossed photo of the falls, meant to hang over the stove railing decoratively. She holds the wet cloth across her ankles as Grandpa Ed backs out of his spot and hits the accelerator.
move haltingly and unsteadily
Well, hitting the accelerator is actually the RV
lurching and climbing slowly to thirty-five.
Dr. Ohari hands them a receipt and a pamphlet entitled Instructions for Wound Care. “Good luck to you,” he says, as if
bestowing a dire prognosis.
fraught with extreme danger; nearly hopeless
Dr. Ohari hands them a receipt and a pamphlet entitled Instructions for Wound Care. “Good luck to you,” he says, as if bestowing a
a prediction of the course of a disease
Dr. Ohari hands them a receipt and a pamphlet entitled Instructions for Wound Care. “Good luck to you,” he says, as if bestowing a dire
“Nah. He doesn’t bother me.”
But he does a little, Annabelle can tell. And it’s not just that Dr. Ohari poked at Grandpa Ed’s
substantial pride. Dr. Ohari worries Grandpa Ed.
become superficially burned
That night, when trucks speed past, their headlights flash, and the RV trembles and shivers against their power. They are comets and meteors burning past her little capsule; they scorch up her very skin as she tries to sleep. They sear and
singe images on her retinas: furious screams, wails of sorrow, the slow, mournful crawl of cars.
Her socks have been rinsed, but they are
tinged pink as they hang to dry over the bathroom door.
force somebody to do something
compelled by a force that has no reason. Call it guilt, shame, a need for redemption. Call it terror or courage. Call it the human spirit, trying to rise.
If Grandpa Ed doesn’t
disown her after her jailbreak, he’ll meet her at a state park on the Snoqualmie River on day one, at a bend in the Yakima River on day two, and just off of Cabin Creek Road outside the small town of Easton on day three, her eighteenth birthday.
providing no shelter or sustenance
In its former life, this trail was a working railroad. Now, it’s home to some of the most
desolate land in the state.
unroll, unfold, or spread out
This morning, past the Cedar Falls train stop, Annabelle runs on a friendly path of crushed rock bordered with trees, all bright green and yellow with baby leaves
be compatible, similar, or consistent
It only is because of messed-up reasons going back messed-up generations, old reasons, reasons that don’t
jibe with this world today.
limited to the explicit meaning of a word or text
“I am coming for you, tunnel. You are not coming for me,” she says out loud. She gives the worst of the worst gestures she’s learned from Grandpa Ed—index fingers stuck aggressively out.
Literal translation: I’ll kick you so hard, your buttocks will end up this far apart.
have and exercise
Her first thought when she sees that card coming toward her is that she has somehow misused the nice-and-beautiful power-not-power she has. She
wielded it recklessly, unleashed it on the vulnerable without entirely meaning to.
lopes toward the second bus, takes the stairs in one leap.
a severe or trying experience
The circle of light grows. It brightens as a new day does. In spite of the long
ordeal she just endured, it feels like a sudden embrace.
someone who supports or champions something
Patron Saint of Gallarate: Saint Christopher, who watches over travelers, children, and bachelors, and protects against storms, holy death, and toothaches.
prevent the occurrence of
But Annabelle has heard stories. How her grandmother had the love of fifteen mothers. How she could put Grandpa Ed in his place with one look. How she could
ward off the malocchio, the evil eye, with a prayer and the dip of her pinkie into a bowl of water sprinkled with a few drops of olive oil.
take temporary possession of by legal authority
“Carl Walter drove me over to Dick’s and we picked up your car,” Gina says. “We’re lucky it didn’t get
impounded. I called the manager, and he said ‘no problem,’ but Carl Walter was still in Boise until today..."
give extra weight to
underscored the need for publicity, and Olivia’s all over it. Ashley Naches from Wenatchee High is only the first person Olivia contacted, and she jumped at the chance to talk to you.”
characterized by hard work and perseverance
Malcolm is not only a genius; he has the
industrious, plodding patience of a tortoise crossing a desert plane.
walk heavily and firmly, as when weary, or through mud
Malcolm is not only a genius; he has the industrious,
plodding patience of a tortoise crossing a desert plane.
preoccupied with unimportant matters in a spiteful way
At least, that world has temporarily vanished, and she is in another one, one that feels real and old, one that has gone on and on, no matter what is happening in that other noisy place. Terrible stuff can happen there,
petty stuff can, while here, beavers still drag around sticks.
an area where the skin is torn or worn off
Now, her skin has
abrasions where any fabric rubbed and rubbed against her skin.