You’re not going to drive me home?” I asked. A waste of breath, since I knew her answer. “There’s fog.” “Patchy fog.” Vee grinned. “Oh, boy. He is so on your mind. Not that I blame you. Personally, I’m hoping I dream about him tonight.

And you would have lost. We were surrounded. He threatened your life, and he would have made good on that threat. He had you, and that meant he had me, too.

He cracked a slight smile, but it didn’t look amused. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. You’re looking a little deranged, Angel. We’ll go together.

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.

Nora: This is crazy. Patch: I'm crazy. About you.

My most noticeable physical trait is, hands down, my hair. It's big, unruly and curly, and you can spot it from a mile away... literally.

Guess who has PE first hour? This is so unfair. I start the day off perspiring like an elephant in heat. Don't the people who make up our schedule understand body odor? Don't they understand frizzy hair? ~Vee