Excerpt
Zoe Snapp is a total outsider, unable to finish anything on time, and unwilling to work society's games. She plays trumpet in her school's jazz ensemble. She refuses to polish her trumpet—she likes tarnish. She wears hoodies, T-shirts, and jeans. She makes her own jewelry out of crystals and rubber bands. Her best pal is skinny Villy Antwerpen, who lives a block or two away from her. Villy has zero ambition and poor self-esteem. But he gets what Zoe's about, and he'll always listen to her, and maybe she has a crush on him.
Often Villy gives Zoe a ride home from school. Today's not, strictly speaking, a school day—Zoe, Villy, and the other seniors just came for the afternoon to rehearse tomorrow's graduation ceremony. They didn't do the speeches, or the reading of the names, and they didn't mess with the gowns, so it didn't take long. And now, here they are in the parking lot, like the end of a regular school day.
Villy has an '80s beater wagon. He's pretty good at fixing things, but he has trouble with his math and science classes. Villy says he's dumb, but that's not exactly what it is. It's more that he's too practical. Too into the physical world. He can pretty much figure out the inner workings of any gadget you hand him. Even so, there's still plenty of things wrong with his car. Because he's not in his garage all that much. More likely he's out surfing or riding his skateboard.
"All hail the purple whale," says Zoe, settling onto the ancient car's wide, bench-style front seat. She does a low laugh and shakes her dark hair. She wears it in a bob with bangs. And then she uses her lively eyes to shoot Villy a sideways glance which pretty much slays him, or at least that's what she likes to think.