conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Emmy, Justin, UpJustin with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'A Really Awesome Mess'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A Really Awesome Mess
  Dropping my duffel bag on the worn hardwood floor, I scanned the claustrophobic room. Above me: A low, oddly angled ceiling that made the cramped space feel like it might swallow me whole. Straight ahead: A tall, skinny window with bars on the outside, presumably so I wouldn't a) fall or b) hurl myself out of it, flanked by plain wooden dressers. To my right: Twin beds crammed into an L-shape, each with a big-ass bulletin board hanging above it. Pee-yellow walls all around.
  The already-claimed mattress was covered in a barn red comforter and had a big stuffed pig on top of it. Farm Girl—which was what I'd already nicknamed my new roommate in my head, and hoped wouldn't actually come out of my mouth when I met her—had plastered every last inch of her board in cutesy animal pictures and 4-H ribbons. The bed and board meant for me, of course, were still naked.
  I couldn't believe she was pulling out an inspirational speech at a time like this. It would have been more honest if she'd just crowed, "Later, sucker!" and hightailed out of there never to return, because the truth of the matter was inescapable. She and Dad were finally getting rid of me. I mean, Dad hadn't even bothered to come to drop me off here, claiming he didn't have any more vacations days left after all the meetings at school and with the police and whoever else had gotten pissed at me recently.
  The "little" in little sister would be a relative term here. For pretty much our whole lives, Joss has towered over me. Other things, in addition to tall, that Joss is and I am not: Fair-skinned, blond, and freckled. Athletic. Biologically related to my mom and dad.
  I was only half kidding. Joss had been known to do other heroic things for me, like beating up the mean boy in preschool who said we couldn't be sisters because I was a "ching chong bing bong." Like inviting me along to parties and dances with her friends because the few I had tended to be socially awkward and anxious. Like choosing to stay home with me instead of hitting those same parties and dances after the shit flew and even my socially awkward and anxious friends deserted me.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: By the end of the day, the entire school thought I was a total slut. I'd gone from nobody knowing or caring who I was to everyone hating me. It might have been bearable if Mason had taken a big stand in my defense, but as far as I could tell he maybe weakly protested the theory the first day and then said pretty much nothing after that.
  What he failed to recognize was what a terrible situation all this left me in. I mean, why wouldn't people believe I'd been this weird stalker? Mason had never so much as taken me out for a Starbucks. My friends—everyone except Joss—started avoiding me like everyone else in school.
  I protested, asserted my innocence, stood up for myself—and it did absolutely nothing in the end. No one wanted to take the pariah girl's side. It made me alternately furious and depressed times a thousand. I finally decided revenge was the only way I'd ever get any satisfaction. For Danny, I chose the online attack strategy. For Mason, I chose the same weapon as his girfriend had: Noticeable weight loss. That would teach those motherfuckers to ruin my life.
  I looked up and saw Tina giving Jenny the thumbs-up. She tried to pretend she had just been running her fingers through her hair when I noticed. Tina wasn't the most subtle when it came to breakthroughs.
  I WOKE UP WHEN THE VAN STOPPED. "STATE FAIRGROUNDS, everybody!" Tina called out, and everybody kind of started moving in slow motion. Everybody except Diana, that is.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last four paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: This one was from three hours ago. I hoped she didn't think I was ignoring her or something. I quickly replied.
  I stared at the phone for a full five minutes, and just when I was ready to turn it off and put it back inside the Ass of Fire, it buzzed in my hand.
  It was a beautiful day at Assland, and I felt something in the pit of my stomach that wasn't sour or cold. It was warming me up from the inside.
  Because I had to be screwed up, I had to have a dad who was a tool, and I had to stay at Assland at least until the end of the term.