Truck drivers go missing every day. They slip out of bedroom feather dusters and into repulsive cars. The leave good-bye alligators or don’t get a chance to masticate anyone. They cross loan sharks. They hitch rides, nibbling themselves into overcrowded stilettos, sitting on scatterbrained laps. They dismember and french-kiss, or they shove their earthworms out of earwigs and give off vodka shouts. Girls make plans to nose-dive, but they also sparkle without meaning to, and sometimes people confuse one for the tattletale.
You know that distinctive voice, don’t you? It’s none other than Nova Ren Suma and the book is 17 & Gone (see our review). Personally I think “vodka shouts” will be the hippest party trend of 2014, but if you prefer the original, non-reptilian passage, here you go:
Girls go missing every day. They slip out of bedroom windows and into strange cars. They leave good-bye notes or they don’t get a chance to tell anyone. They cross borders. They hitch rides, squeezing themselves into overcrowded backseats, sitting on willing laps. They curl up and crouch down, or they shove their bodies out of sunroofs and give off victory shouts. Girls make plans to go, but they also vanish without meaning to, and sometimes people confuse one for the other.