Sixteen-year-old Daisy Wright shimmers through life in bright-colored tennis shoes and Salvation Army dresses, always a half-size too large. She sweeps loops of her dirty-blonde hair into a rat’s nest of spirals and braids. Her cherry-vanilla lip gloss accents the natural smudges beneath her eyes and the chipped nail polish on her fingernails never matches.
Daisy’s only treasure is an iPod. Between every class, the buds burrow into her ears.
Lily recognizes her classmate’s messy magnetism as a look she can never pull off. Perhaps she’ll eat Daisy’s soul instead. — Excerpt from I Am Lily Dane