conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a story about Jane, UpAfter, Sinner with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this story could be 'Nice Try, Jane Sinner'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Nice Try, Jane Sinner
  Subjects: | CYAC: High school dropouts—Fiction. | Universities and colleges—Fiction. | Reality television programs—Fiction. | Internet television—Fiction. | Diaries—Fiction.
  I'm not a particularly good daughter, but I sat through a month of therapy for my parents' sake. I'd like to think they got more out of it than I did. Couldn't have been too hard. Any system that requires the patient's family to pay someone else to care about her is fundamentally flawed. But I digress. If my decision to stop attending therapy means James Fowler High School no longer welcomes me as a student, I guess that's on me.
  The novelty of playing hooky has worn off, and I'm desperate to fill my time with something other than introspection, the occasional afternoon stocking groceries, and Mario Kart.
  Bonnie just texted me. She wants me to burst through the clouds like the beautiful ray of sunshine that I am and come to a party tonight where everyone is apparently super super stoked to see me again. I told her it's too dangerous. I have been known to blind others with my relentlessly sunny disposition. I may be desperate for a change, but I'm not desperate enough to face a party full of ex-classmates. Bonnie is a better person than I will ever be, so she promised to stop by later for whatever garbage I'll be binge watching on my laptop.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I wished I smoked cigarettes so I'd have something to do other than trying not to think about how red my eyes must be. No rain fell, no thunder boomed dramatically, no one followed me outside.
  Bonnie, Tegan, Tom, and a couple other girls I used to hang out with reserved a table for us. Normally they wouldn't all sit together, but I guess the friendship of Jane Sinner is like magic glue or something. They weren't expecting me to bring a plus one, so I stole a chair and the plate under Jenny Gunther's name card to make room for R. Jenny borrowed my pen last year and didn't give it back. Also, I just don't like her. Bonnie and Tegan held the table in case someone ratted me out to Jenny while the rest of us waited in line for punch and an extra breadbasket.
  Tom placed a hand on the side of my face, tilted it up to meet his, and rubbed his thumb across my cheek. For fuck's sake. Did I not wipe off all the mascara tracks?
  He didn't wink as he said it. Behind me, R grew even more still. I don't know how I felt that, but I did.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Becky Albertalli. You found me lurking in the obscure corners of the internet and encouraged, supported, and believed in me until I was ready to come out of the writing closet. I wouldn't be where I am without you.
  My younger sister, Goose, AKA Erin Bosker, the Second. Your truly bizarre sense of humor has inspired me, as has your life motto: "I can do what I want." You are one of the strangest people I'll ever have the pleasure of knowing.
  Kevin and Evie and Toby and Sir Pips-A-Lot, for all your love. Thanks for letting me sleep in your basement.
  Friends and family both in Alberta (shout-out to Andrea for her passionate and unhealthy love of McNugz) and Vancouver (if we've ever enjoyed an IPA or gone camping together, I'm talking about you). You all keep me sane.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Becky Albertalli. You found me lurking in the obscure corners of the internet and encouraged, supported, and believed in me until I was ready to come out of the writing closet. I wouldn't be where I am without you.
  My younger sister, Goose, AKA Erin Bosker, the Second. Your truly bizarre sense of humor has inspired me, as has your life motto: "I can do what I want." You are one of the strangest people I'll ever have the pleasure of knowing.
  Kevin and Evie and Toby and Sir Pips-A-Lot, for all your love. Thanks for letting me sleep in your basement.
  Friends and family both in Alberta (shout-out to Andrea for her passionate and unhealthy love of McNugz) and Vancouver (if we've ever enjoyed an IPA or gone camping together, I'm talking about you).