That's why we're going to disrupt the lunch," she (Kat) said. "You know," Angus said, "I've got a little C-four that I've been saving for a rainy--" "We're not blowing up my company, Angus," Hale said. "Righto. Carry on, Kitty.

That's for me to know, and for you to find out.

I'm fine I said for the 2,467th time this semester. (I know. I was keeping count)

Step 4: Cough and gag. Step 5: Repeat Step 4 until it feels like maybe your lungs aren't inside your body anymore. Step 6: Remember that a really cute boy is beside you, so try to cough in a far more attractive manner.

Teenage girls read in packs. It's true today, and it was true when I was a teen growing up in a small town in northeast Oklahoma.

Like so many aspiring writers who still have boxes of things they've written in their parents' houses, I filled notebooks with half-finished poems and stories and first paragraphs of novels that never got written.

Abby must have been the one who found the safe house, because Townsend didn't like it. "The building across the street is under construction," he snarled as soon as we'd carried our bags inside. "The elevator has key card access, and I've hacked into the surveillance cameras from every system on the block," Abby argued. "We have a three-hundred-sixty-degree visual." "Excellent." Townsend dropped his bag. "Now the circle can see us from every angle." "Don't mind Agent Townsend, girls," Abby told us. "He's a glass-half-empty kind of spy." "Also known as the good kind," he countered. Abby huffed.