Bite me, Goth princess, Shane called from the back. Not literally or anything.Maybe you should say that to Michael.Not funny, Eve, Michael said.Eve raised her eyebrows and held her fingers up, measuring off about an inch. Little bit, she said.
They came out in a dim, damp basement - a generic sort of place, full of moulding boxes. 'You take me to the nicest places,' Claire said, and sneezed.
You know what we call pedestrians in Morganville? Mobile bloodbanks.
Welcome to Morganville.You'll never want to leave.And even if you do...well, you can't. Sorry about that.
You can't go around... licking things that come out of a water treatment plant. That's just... unsanitary.
Parents had some kind of sin radar, Claire thought. They always called when you were in the middle of something you just knew they'd consider wrong. Or at least risky.
Eve: She told me last!Shane: Boyfriend!Michael: Landlord!Eve: Crap. Right. Next time you sell your soul to the devil, I get first contact!
Oliver: You turned me down. So why, I wonder, did you decide Amelie would be a better choice?Claire: She smells better. And she made me cookies.
I love arguing with you, Claire. You always surprise me. And occasionally, you evenmake sense.
I am not getting you a brain, because I am not that kind of assistant, Dr. Frankenstein.
Now play , make-believe dead girl
I think I'd fall for you no matter what, Claire. You're kind of awesome.
She wanted to lunge over and kiss him. Well, ew, not really, maybe a hug. Or a hanshake.
It's a sad day when Myrnin is the safe choice, she thought. Apparently, he thought so, too, because he gave her a long, troubled look before pressing his thumb to a glass plate inside the room and opening the door.
I have no idea what that is, but yawn, anyway, just on principle. Eat up. Pancakes is brain food.Apparently not grammar food.Wow.You college girls are mean.