“You look beautiful.” Lindsay giggles, checks Elody out in the rearview. “There are some bagels under your butt, beautiful.” “Mmm, butt bagels.” Elody reaches into the bag and pulls out a bagel, half squashed, then makes a big deal of taking an enormous bite out of it. “Tastes like Victoria’s Secret.” “Tastes like thong floss,” I say. “Tastes like crack,” Lindsay says. “Tastes like fart,” Elody says, and Lindsay spits coffee on the dashboard, and I start laughing and can’t stop, and all the way to school we’re thinking of flavors for butt bagels, and I’m thinking that this—my life, my friends—might be weird or screwy or imperfect or damaged or whatever, but it’s never seemed better to me.” FriendsImperfectWeirdFlavorsDamagedLindsay EdgecombTastes LikeButt BagelsElody Book:Before I Fall Source: Before I Fall
“She takes a final bite of the ugly, messed-up tart she saved, then swipes her finger through a glob of curd left on the plate. It tastes like spring rain, the summer before pastry school, mint-tea afternoons with her mother, and mulch from her father's peony gardens.” NostalgicTartTastes Like Book:The Ingredients of Us Source: The Ingredients of Us