Macon, wet from the raindrops for the first time.
I hadn't fallen through his arms. He was ripped from mine.
I would love to say how nice it is to see you again, but that would be a lie. And I am nothing if not honest.
Are you insinuatin' that my daughter is a liar?" "Oh, no, not at all. I'm saying your daughter is a liar. Surely you can appreciate the difference.
I care. They bother me. And that's why I'm stupid. That makes me exponentially more stupid than stupid. I'm stupid to the power of stupid.
She was wearing a purple T-shirt, with a skinny black dress over it that made you remember how much of a girl she was, and trashed black boots that made you forget.
Lena Smoothed her hair. "Crazy weather you have down here.
A vegetarian? Are you insane? That's worse than bein' a quarter demon!
We're gonna be late for English, and I gotta take these pantyhose off on the way. I'm gettin' a serious wedgie.
Hey Rid?" She stopped and turned to look at him, almost ruefully. Like she couldn't help what she was any more then a shark could help being a shark, but if she could... "Yeah, Shrinky Dink?" "You're not all bad." She looked right at him and almost smiled. "You know what they say. Maybe I'm just drawn that way.
I walked over and picked up one of the jugs. "What's this? Some kind of Caster disinfectant?" Lena took it out of my hand and lined it up with the others. "Yeah, it's called bleach.
You know I love a good family feud and I carry a big stick.
Kind of like love before first sight.” and “Butterflies in your stomach. That was such a crappy metaphor. More like killer bees.
- L, did you know we’re reenacting the Salem witch trials in English tomorrow? - Haven’t been memorizing your case file? Do you even look in your backpack anymore? - Did you know my dad is videotaping it? I do. Because I walked in on his lunch date with Mrs. English. - Ewww. - What should we do? - I guess we should start calling her Ms. English? - Not funny, L.
It's the face the world sees, the one you can change as many times as you want
In the wake of my talk with Earl, we had come to a mutual understanding about Lena, the only kind guys ever come to. Meaning, I hadn’t brought it up, and they hadn’t brought it up, and between us, we somehow all agreed to go on like this indefinitely. Don’t ask, don’t tell.
A little-known fact about me: I read all the time.
And have her back by midnight. " "Is that some powerful Caster hour?" "No. It's her curfew.
I'm not even sure we remembered to kiss. What we had went deeper than a kiss
There was a curse. There was a girl. And in the end, there was a grave. I never even saw it coming.
They really hate you, yes they do. They hate everyone, how 'bout you?
I wanted to stay this way forever. Which, it turns out, was exactly five more minutes.
The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.” “Elton John?” “Close. Ernest Hemingway. In his own way, sort of the rock star of his time.
My life had taken a stranger turn than I could've ever imagined. What was I doing on this path? Where was I headed really? Who was I to take on a battle between powers I didn't understand— armed with a runaway cat, a uniquely bad drummer, a pair of garden shears, and an Ovaltine-drinking teen Galileo? To save a girl who didn't want to be saved?
The thing about fate is, are you the master of your fate, or are the stars?
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