Everything changed for the Baxter sisters last spring. Lacey blew it with Henry her lifelong crush, only to discover a blooming relationship with her best friend, Chase. While he picked her back up and put her back together, they grew closer over the summer. Now that school has started, he’s found popularity thanks to his band Cate’s Ashes, and he’s hiding secret phone calls and text messages. Plus, did his ex-girlfriend just appear out of the blue at his show? Forcing Lacey to wonder if he’s over the feelings he pronounced for her at the beginning of summer. Add to the tension, a realization and secret of her own to keep about her worse enemy. Lacey vows to be the bigger person and keep Byron’s revelation, but what will it cost?
Meanwhile, as Lana tries to find herself again after her suicide attempt, she’s befriended by the school’s resident bad girl, Britt and new chicano boy, Tomas in the same week. Britt offers unconditional acceptance that Lana didn’t realize she craved, while Tomas brings out the best in her, and makes her feel alive again. Britt is dangerous and daring, while Tomas exudes the security and safety. Vices come easily when you are already addicted to something you crave, and Lana muddles through figuring out who she wants to be.
With their parents constantly arguing, and their dad moving into the guest bedroom, the pressure on the girls may explode destroying them all. Is there a place for happiness when their world is crumbling around them?
Momo, thank you so much for having me on your blog to talk about my favorite quotes from my series The Butterfly Chronicles. It was so hard to narrow it down, but I loved sifting through and remembering the scenes again. I’ll admit, I cheated a little on Butterfly Kisses, because my most favorite scenes would be total spoilers, so some of these are runner-up, honorable mention favorite scenes. Just know that besides these, my favorite scenes include Thanksgiving, Brown County, birthdays and group therapy. This was an emotional book to write full of twists and turns, not only for the character but for myself as well.
I took excerpts from the printed books, so the page numbers reflect that.
Becoming a Butterfly
Lacey and Henry
“So, how come we never talk?” he asked, as if it were the most natural question, like he really didn’t know.
“Different circles,” I said, putting my feet down and sitting on my hands.
“You should say ‘hi’ when you see me,” he said too casually.
“Maybe I will.” I gave him my best effort at a smile. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as a smile crept into the corners of his amazingly full lips.
“Didn’t you have braces?” I blushed instantly and looked away.
“Yeah, I just got them off; happy spring break to me.”
“Definitely, you have a nice smile.” He grinned, then added as an afterthought, “Hey, do you know if Farrah is seeing anybody?” He rubbed the back of his head as his smile went crooked, and my heart stopped.
“Goodnight, Henry,” I said and stood up.
“So is that a yes, or no? Oh, OK, night.” He waved, and I went inside.
My dad usually knows what to say, but when he doesn’t, he knows what to do. He took the scenic route home through the Dairy Queen drive-thru and got me a cherry cordial blizzard.
Chase and Lacey
“I bet the craziest thing you’ve ever done is what you’re doing now.” He pointed at me with the wrench again. Was that thing attached to his hand? “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He returned to his work, and I blushed.
My phone dinged almost immediately. My text-to-drive app read in a very generic computer voice, “I’m going to hit up Starbucks. Do you want anything? From Asshole.” Jade and Tasha giggled.
“Who’s Asshole?” Henry laughed.
“Chase,” I said softly. He mouthed “oh,” as I said louder, “Send a reply. Yes, mocha extra whiped cream please.”
Farrah was the cocoon of my creation; I was the butterfly.
My Friday nights still belong to Jade and Tasha, but since the summer, my Saturday nights have belonged to Chase. It started out that he would stop by in the morning, always having some task for me to help him with, like bleeding the brakes on a car (I still don’t know what that even means), or grocery shopping for him and his dad. Always random, he’d stomp into my room, grab me from under the pile of blankets where I’d been hiding, and literally toss me into my bathroom with clothes from my closet and drawers and tell me to get dressed. He knew my room almost as well as I did. Once I came to expect it, he wouldn’t show up till the afternoon. Then he’d take me for a ride on his bike downtown to meet up with a few other bikers in their twenties and ride around, or he took me to the Indianapolis Art Museum. We’d spend the afternoon walking around Broad Ripple or in some downtown neighborhood art fair buying beaded necklaces or artwork painted by struggling artists. Soon it was the evening when he’d show up, and we’d go to the movies or bowling. I found myself waiting for the Saturdays when Chase took me out. Sure, we saw each other all week with our friends or hung out at my house poolside, but on Saturdays he planned something special just for him and me. My favorites were the nights when we just drove around getting lost on the country roads of Hendricks County, talking and listening to music.
Lana and Tomas
I don’t want other friends. I want to be yours,” he says, resolved, as he looks back at his work. His words sting me; he said, “I want to be yours.” Suddenly I have images of holding his hand, climbing trees, and staring into each other’s eyes longingly as the sun sets in the distance. Then the bell rings.
He’s parked his car by mine and is leaning against the driver’s side door watching me as I approach. I let out a deep sigh, glad my shift is over. “Want to go get a coffee?” he asks as I lean against his door, taking my refuge in his eyes. He smiles sympathetically at me, and I can’t help it or stop myself; I take the only step between us and give him a hug because I didn’t realize how tense I was until I walked out of the door just then. He squeezes me and asks, “So that’s a yes?” and I nod.
Lana and Tomas
“Can I see?” he repeats softly, his eyes pleading. No one has seen them except for my family, Chase, and the doctors. I hesitate, and the disappointment appears all over his face. “It’s OK,” he says, dejected as he lowers himself back down onto his pallet. I watch him as his jaw sets again. Absentmindedly, I trace the scar on my right arm through the T-shirt.
“Is that why you draw on yourself, to keep from cutting?” He won’t look at me now.
“Kind of, it was the reason to begin with, but it’s therapeutic too. I feel better when I write on myself. I’m a mess.” I let out a deep breath. “You’d be better without me.”
“I know how your understandings work, Lacey,” he states, trying to move toward the door, but I step in his way.
“Chase,” I say, exasperated. “This isn’t working, is it?” He stops and stares at me. The fear of finality is raw on his face.
“I guess not.” His jaw is set, and I feel my eyes get glassy.
“I miss you,” I whisper for lack of anything else to say. I just want to hold him and feel his strength, but I can’t. That’s taking and not giving in return. I can no longer be a selfish friend. I can’t lead him on or give him false hope, my wishes, or any untruths.
As if reading my mind, he says just as softly, “I knew what I was getting into with you from the beginning.” I don’t know if he’s talking about my crush on Henry, being Farrah, or just screwed-up me to begin with. Before I have a chance to ask, he pulls me into a tight hug, and I let out a sigh of relief. I’m home. I wrap my arms around his back and snuggle into his shirt that smells like him, fabric softener and soap, my favorite smell in the whole world.
A lot of awesome quotes there, huh? Which one was your favorite? I definitely have a few and after reading 'em, I totes need to read these very soon!
A huge thank you to Mia Castile for being here on BOB, today! It was a blast!
About the author:
Mia loved music. She didn’t just love it, she sat on the floor in front of her Casio stereo for hours at a time, recording songs off the radio. Then she would cue them up and make sure she only got the music as she recorded them on a second tape, without the DJ’s voices on them, just the music. Then she would listen to those songs absorbing the words as she sat in her room and wrote her poetry.
She wrote her first Poem when she was thirteen. It was called Sands of Time. When she was sixteen and again when she was eighteen she won two state competitions for her poetry. Her Poetry was stories of roses, starry nights, love, loss, and the scars left behind. She found recourse in those private moments filling notebooks of her writings. As she grew so did her inspirations, and whenever it hit her the rest of the world melted away until her verses were written, alive in the world.
Even today as Mia writes mostly YA fiction, poetry still holds a special place in her heart. Her love for all things words propels her forward in her pursuit of the next great story.
Find Mia Castile online: Website | Facebook | Twitter