"Your brother's a freak, you know that?" said Heather, a girl with too much hairspray and not enough kindness.
Missy felt a strange, protective anger flicker in her chest. Only I get to call them freaks , she thought. She stood up and walked toward the fence. "Billy! You've got a weed in your hair!"
George Sr., home early after failing to fix the Zenith, grunted. "Pull the lever."