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.
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.
His smile was bright and sweet and hot enough to melt solid steel. 'Is this the part where I kiss you?''If you like''Oh,' he said, 'I like.
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!
Now play , make-believe dead girl
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.
Eve: Shut up, we have zero time for you and your bullshit dramaticsMonica: Or what, you'll bleed on me, Emo Princess of Freakdomonia?Claire: Fine. You come with us. If you get in my way, I'll kill you.
Shane? Thank God, somebody sane. Well, sane-ish.
Please. I am the queen of careful. Also, princess of punk fabulousness.
Hold on, Claire Bear! Next stop, Crazytown!
Mirnin: Where's Shreve?
Oh, he is cute! Shane said in a fake girly voice. Gee, maybe we can ask him out!Shut up, you weasel. Claire, hit him!