— Tell me something true.
— Something true. I hate peas.
Played by:
I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big, dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick — It even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh — Even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around. And the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you — Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
— Looking for me?
— Yes, if you're the ladies' room.
— She hates you.
— Oh, I'm touched.
— Hey, what's going on?
— Just wrapping up another day in paradise.
— Listen, about the other day. I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone through your bag or stabbed you in the foot.
— Ah, don't sweat it. But let's keep our distance. The doctor said it would heal faster if I reduced the amount of crazy in my life. [He leaves]
— Crazy? I'm not crazy. Yes, I'm talking to myself. It's a sign of genius.
— You do realize that this is your only car, and if you destroy it, I'm not getting you another one.
— Relax, Dad. I printed a comprehensive instruction manual off the Internet. Got nine out of ten stars.
— If she's your little flower, what am I?
— Your my big, tough cactus.
— Let us pray. Thank you, Lord, for this bountiful harvest, and bless the underprivileged and teenage children in new high schools. Amen.
— Okay, Bianca, what gives?
— Kat, please! Okay, Bianca, what gives?
— Well, Daddy, I've been thinking about my faith a lot recently ever since I met this great group of kids at school. Speaking of which, they invited me to this killer Bible study tonight. Can I go?
— And the Oscar goes to... Bianca Stratford for Lying to Her Farther!
— Zip it, Satan. Dad, I'd really hate to miss it. I think tonight I get my purity ring!
— And I think tonight you'll be home with the purity security!
I'm not that girl. The girl who's turned on by this bad-boy crap. I'm not skipping home to scribble in my journal that maybe you're a vampire.
— Finally! A fully formed female. I am so over freshmen. I do not find retainers hot.
— Are you confused that a fully formed female could kick your ass?
— Look, if I wanted to go on a date with him, I'd ask him myself. Feminism, ever heard of it?
— Mm, isn't that the thing that killed romance?