"I start filming tomorrow," Jerome said.
I looked blank.
"My movie. My vampire movie. You sure you don't want to be in it?"
"We're going on vacation this week."
"That sucks," said Jerome. "It's going to be genius."
We stood silent. After a moment I said, "Real geniuses never think they're geniuses."
"Who says?"
"Me."
"Because why?"
"Because genius is nine-tenths perspiration. Haven't you ever heard that? As soon as you think you're a genius, you slack off. You think everything you do is so great and everything."
"I just want to make scary movies," Jerome replied. "With occasional nudity."
"Just don't try to be a genius and maybe you'll end up being one by accident," I said.
“Dear Mom and Dad,
I know you’re only trying to do what’s best for me, but I don’t think anyone knows for sure what’s best. I love you and don’t want to be a problem, so I’ve decided to go away. I know you’ll say I’m not a problem, but I know I am. If you want to know why I’m doing this, you should ask Dr. Luce, who is a big liar! I am not a girl. I’m a boy. That’s what I found out today. So I’m going where no one knows me. Everyone in Grosse Pointe will talk when they find out.
Sorry I took your money, Dad, but I promise to pay you back someday, with interest.
Please don’t worry about me. I will be ALL RIGHT!
Despite it’s contents, I signed this declaration to my parents: “Callie.”
It was the last time I was ever their daughter.”
"I had miscalculated with Luce. I thought that after talking to me he would decide that I was normal and leave me alone. But I was beginning to understand something about normality. Normality wasn’t normal. It couldn’t be. If normality were normal, everybody could leave it alone. They could sit back and let normality manifest itself. But people - and especially doctors - had doubts about normality. They weren’t sure it was up to the job. And so they felt inclined to give it a boost."