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I still had no clue where Rose lived. I imagined an apartment complex, or one of those older, one-story houses across from the old bottlling plant, judging by the secondhand clothes, the almost-empty lunch trays, and the things I’d heard people whisper about her in the halls about her parents, mostly how her mom didn’t work and how they moved here because they couldn’t afford Chicago anymore. Except as we turned down streets, following her directions, the houses only grew larger and the fences taller, till Rose told us we could stop and let her out. We sat at the end of a driveway leading up to a big wood-trimmed house with a white-columned porch and perfectly square-shaped hedges. You could just make out the cement lining oof an in-ground pool in the backyard. Rose Holland’s house was enormous.

This paragraph was also very detailed and interesting for Frost because he thinks Rose is poor and doesn’t have much money but he finds out her house not only is enormous but has a pool. This makes me feel bad for Rose since everyone is making up stories about her.

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I looked back once to see Cameron limping in the opposite direction with his friends. The crest of Hirohito Hill was nearly empty now, but I caught one familiar face looking down at us standing all by himself.
I put up a hand, more out of instinct than anything, and was happy to see Bench wave back.

I think these paragraphs show that Bench might be coming around to hang with them again. Also that he doesn’t seem upset that they kind of replaced him.

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A third of the way down, Rose brushed against the trunk of one tree, catching the right handlebar and wrenching her wheel around, send in ding her off course or at least onto a new one. I felt sure she was going to wipe out right there, but she somehow recovered, adjusting to the new trajectory, instantly rebuilding her speed. Cameron was ahead of her. He seemed to have found a fairly well-worn path--maybe he had planned the route ahead of time—and it made all the difference. If Rose bit it now, she’d lose for sure. I tried not to think about what the boys’ toilets smelled like, the ring of brown and yellow crust along the rims. Tried not to imagine the cold water on my lips, up my nose, in my hair.

I think this paragraph has amazing detail and in my opinion very exciting and intriguing.

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“I could never have the patience of Wolf. He just takes his time and doesn’t get frustrated.” How do you think Wolf has so much patience? How does Wolf have so much self control that when Jason picks on him he just ignores it? Wolf has a lot of hand-eye coordination fro playing piano and that pays off for him, what can Frost to do to be more like Wolf because it seems like he wants to be exactly like Wolf? What would happen it Frost or anyone left the tribe? Would he be frowned upon?

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I'm a warrior ninja princess I can do what I want.” Is this foreshadowing what Rose will do in the future parts of this book? Why can’t Deedee stand Rose being that when Wolf and Frost are cool with it? Will Rose eventually go off on her own? Will Rose save all of their butts one day when Jason starts to pick on them? Do you think Rose is finally starting to fit in with the tribe or will she have to stay alone and embarrassed with Wolf by her side?

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“The catch. The catch.” Why do you think they won’t talk about it even though it was a great achievement for Bench? They feel happy for him but they don’t show it. Why? If they would’ve had a chance to tell Bench good job, would they? Do you think they have the courage to go up to Bench and say good job in front of all of his football friends will they have to do it over sticky note? Now that Bench is accepted in one sport, what about the other ones?

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I know other things about Bench. Things that even his parents probably don’t. Like he’s a little ashamed of his dad because Mr.Jones used to be a runner—track and cross-country—and now he carries a serious gut and can barely huff it a mile. I also know Bench is still terrified of letting his dad down, which is one of the reasons he tries so hard to get straight As and make it onto every team. I know that it takes him twice as long to get through a book as me. I know that he has an irrational fear of his teeth falling out due to the fact that when he was little, his grandmother’s dentures accidentally came out and dropped into her potato soup.

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I definitely wouldn’t tell him (Bench) how much we laughed how Rosie gave Deedee such a hard time seeing her grandmother would be a better dungeon master and urging him to just make stuff up rather than taking five minute time out to page through is 300 page manual manual’s. I  wouldn’t tell him how she be all three of us an arm wrestling contest after afterward nearly threw in Wolf out of his chair or how she told me that her favorite American poet was Emily Dickinson even though I’ve never heard anyone else our age admit to having a favorite American poet.  And I wouldn’t tell him how when we all said goodbye at the end of the night she gave out more hugs not just to Wolf, to all three of us. I can tell him that I had your back all the way around I would just say it was all right. Because it was his. I dialed his home phone and his mom picked up. She sounded apologetic.

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Pgs. 209 to 209. “He was there when I came in”Deedee said. “I figured if I came and sat down he might grab his tray and come sit with us.” Deedee spooned up a glop of tapioca pudding them plopped it back in the cup . Over in the corner Bench appear to be telling a story to the other guys, who were all laughing . One of his football buddies slapped the table and the sound startled me . I felt something swelling and catch in my throat and I forced it down deep into a hole that had opened the hole inside of me. “It’s all right” Wolf said. “He’s a big boy he can sit wherever he wants, besides his stock has gone up.

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“That’s what happened to the sticky notes. They proliferated, went viral....... It was the color change. The notes aren’t all yellow anymore, which meant that students weren’t using the ones they’d been forced to buy for school. They were going out and buying new pads of sticky notes. Blue, hot pink, and neon green, the color of cartoon toxic waste. Different sizes, too. Long rectangles. Arrows. Some shaped like hearts.”

I find this paragraph and the whole “sticky-note-on-the-locker” thing to be very interesting. I mean, it all started off with DeeDee, who was trying to cope with not having his phone with him, then someone saw all this happening and followed it. Other people caught on, and now it’s a full-on trend! They even buy new pads of all shapes and colors for it, if that’s not commitment I don’t know what is!

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“And I learned something about Rose Holland, something that I guess Wolf had already seen in her but that I was just starting to. A kind of surety. I think it was her laugh—high-pitched and a little annoying, but always full and loud, never clipped short, never held back. I hadn’t really noticed it at the lunch table...... It was a determined laugh. Totally in-your-face. And it was growing on me.”

This part kind of warms my heart, because when Frost had at first been upset and uncomfortable by Rose’s presence, I feel that now he is kind of warming up to Rose like Wolf had done.

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“‘All right. Fine. It’s another name thing. I bet you can’t guess what they used to call me in elementary school?’ And suddenly there it was, Bench’s voice in my head. I pictured the antlers. The flaring nostrils. The big, melancholy eyes. I nearly blurted out. Moose.”

You know, that’s a little uncalled for, don’t you think, Frost? She may be muscular and tall, but that doesn’t immediately make you a moose, Snowman! Besides, I bet you anything you wouldn’t be thinking that if it weren’t for Bench pointing it out.......... wait just a minute BENCH-

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Pg. 85
“  “I owe you a ball,” he said. “What?” “Get ready to run,” he added. Before any of us could say anything or reach out to stop him, Bench veered left, taking just enough steps to ensure his accuracy. Then he hurdled the ball as hard as he could—one-handed, baseball style, right on the mark. It rebounded off the back of the bigger boy’s head with enough force to nearly knock him over. I could actually hear it bounce off the kid’s skull. A strangely satisfying thump.
The next thing I heard was Bench’s voice screaming, “Go! Go! Go!”
I think that this paragraph shows how bold Bench is. I also think it shows that Bench isn’t okay with being messed with.

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Pg. 116-117
“My cursor hovered over the the send button, finger poised over the mouse, reading that one sentence, over and over, making sure I hadn’t said something I hadn’t meant to, which would’ve been hard given the fact that I only used eight words. I even fretted over the emoticon—considered the one with the winking eye, but that would definitely give the wrong impression. And that was the last thing thing I wanted to do.
I clicked send and stood up to go brush my teeth but paused over the keyboard, refreshing the inbox once, then again, standing there for thirty seconds, a minute, two. Just to see if, by chance, she was online right at that moment and had gotten my reply.
And if she would write me back.”
I think that in this writing it shows how much Frost does not want to make the wrong impression to Rose. It is obvious that Frost doesn’t talk to girls on the regular.

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Pg. 111
“Three. Two. One. We have a liftoff. He didn’t need to pedal. The pedals were just a place to keep your feet. Gravity did all the work. Evan Smalls careened down Hirohito Hill on an orange-and-black Huffy undulating over the rutted terrain. I thought about my uncle and what he would say about this—except there were no render procedures for the Gauntlet. There was the top of the hill and the bottom of the hill and a hundred ways to get mangled in between.
I found myself holding my own sweaty hand and saying a little prayer for Evan as he dodged one tree after another. He wasn’t a friend or anything—it’s not like we ever hung out— but he’d never nudged me or called me a dweeb or a loser either. Please let him make it, I whispered. Let him get to the bottom.
But the bloodthirsty gods that watch over Hirohito Hills don’t take requests.”
I think this page shows how dangerous and how difficult it is to make it to the bottom of Hirohito Hills. I also believe that this scene was very detailed and it wasn’t that hard to picture. It shows how Frost feels about Evan going down the hill. Imagine how this would have ended if Evan made it all the way down the hill.

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“‘It’s a place where legends are born,’ I explained. ‘It’s basically this gigantic hill, completely covered with trees, and you have to walk your bike to the top and then try to ride back down as fast as you can, no brakes, without flipping or kissing bark. DeeDee’s right. It’s completely suicidal.’”

Is it just me, or is that the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard? Sure, it may seem cool at first, but I doubt it will be for long (at least for the one doing the dare, when they break their neck.). Anyone wanna bet that Evan Smalls is going to make it? I bet a 20 he breaks a rib/leg.

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“The high school kids looked over at us. Bench took a couple of steps toward them. “Hey!” he said again. “That’s our ball.” “Then go get it,” the boy who kicked it said. The girl sitting beside them brought a hand to her face, embarrassed, but the other two kids just smiled at each other. Bench wasn’t smiling though. He had his game face on. The one he always wore despite never playing when it mattered...”

As soon as I had read the last statement, I just knew that these high school kids had screwed up big time. I mean, I know that the bullies were older then Bench and the others, who were most likely younger back then, but with someone like Bench, who keep in mind no one likes to mess with around, you should probably back away.
Also, don’t ya just hate it when people who are older than you don’t take you seriously, either it being coddled or picked on? I know I do.

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“They would come up with other nicknames for me. Names worse than Frost. Names that start with P and “poet” wouldn’t be one of them.”

Now, not that I can come up with any at the moment, but I feel that it is safe to assume that the author had an inappropriate name in mind while writing this. Keep in mind, I truly cannot think of a bad name beginning with P, but with the way that it was worded, it would make me seem oblivious to not at least mention it.

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Notes. At least a hundred of them. Pressed all over the freshly painted locker.
Some clumped together, overlapping like roof shingles others orbit like satellites.