Anthony raised his red plastic cup to me and shouted something, but it was too hard to hear over the music. “What?” I called back. “You look great!” A goofy smile was plastered on his face. “Oh boy,” Vee said. “Not just a pimp, but a smashed pimp.” “So maybe he’s a little drunk.” “Drunk and hoping to corner you alone in a bedroom upstairs.” Ugh.

When I watched Lifetime original movies, it took me a day or two to get over the idea that the cute boy next door is actually a serial killer.

Hang on, did you just call me Angel?" "If I did?

The only thing a boyfriend was good for was a shattered heart.

The guy I've got my eye on happens to be hot. Off-the-charts hot. Hotter-than-Patch hot.' She paused. 'Well maybe not that hot. Nobody's that hot.

Cheshvan starts tonight," Rixon said, "What are you doing arsing around in a graveyard?" "Thinking." "Thinking?" "A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision.

I can't imagine why you're so interested." He shook his head. "Interested? We're talking about you. I'm fascinated.