Geniune Fraud by E. Lockhart

Dedication

For anyone who has been taught that good equals small and silent, here is my heart in all its ugly tangles and splendid fury.

Love

"I'm scared I'm gonna lose him and I hate being with him, both at the same time. And when he's dead and I'm an orphan, I know I'm going to be sorry I took this trip away from him, d'you know?" p3

Gender

Jule watched a shit-ton of movies. She knew that women were rarely the centers of such stories. Instead, they were eye candy, arm candy, victims, or love interests. Mostly, they existed to help the great white hetero her on his fucking epic journey. Where there was a heroine, she weighed very little, wore very little, and had had her teeth fixed. p22

Eff you, Mr. Isaac. I'm not so very ignorant. I just know stuff about stuff that you dismiss as unimportant and useless. p68

American Dream discussion p34

Descriptions

Imogen Sokoloff was the type of girl teachers never thought worked to her full potential. The type of girl who blew off studying and yet filled her favorite books with sticky notes. Immie refused to strive for greatness or to work toward other people's definitions of success. She struggled to wrest herself from men who wanted to dominate her and women who wanted her exclusive attention. She refused, over and over, to give any single person her devotion, preferring instead to make a home for herself that she defined on her own terms, and of which she was master. (And you could keep going. This is a very interesting description.) p39-40

Superheroes/ Origin Story

p22
p57-58
p150
p228
p238- Gershwin

Privilege

p64

Mystery- the genre

p70

Punctuation is important

"Yes! There will be separate bedrooms. Available." p100

Creepy

So much of Immie was in Jule now. That was consolation. p142

"You just want to wear my clothes and read my books and play pretend with my money. It's not a real friendship, Jule. It's not a real friendship when I pay for everything and you borrow everything and it's still not enough. You want all my secrets, and then you hold them over me. I feel sorry for you, I do. I like you-- but you've become, like, an imitation of me half the time." p170-171

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