I've dug so deep into his background, I can practically tell you when he stopped waring diapers.

Long story short, ghosts just coming out of the closet sucked at communication. Probably as bad as a beginner ghost whisperer sucked at getting them to communicate.

She remembered when they were kids and he'd caught the rock that the bullies had thrown at her. At six, she'd considered him a hero. At sixteen, she considered him a heartbreaker.

Friday morning, Kylie, Miranda, and Della, each carting suitcases, walked the trail to meet up with their parents. They walked slowly, like condemned prisoners moving to their executions. “I’m going to be peeing on a drug test stick every hour,” Della muttered. Miranda sighed. “I’m going to screw up at my competition and my mom is going to give me up for adoption.” “I’m going to a ghost hunt,” Kylie added. Both girls looked at her. “Don’t ask.

When it walks like a saint, and quacks like a saint- it's a quacking saint." -Della

Then maybe it's time to change that." Della sat back in her chair. "Change what?" Kylie asked. "Come out of the closet. You know, like...'I'm gay and here to stay.' You'd need a different slogan, but maybe, 'I'm a lizard and if you don't like it, I'll eat out your gizzard.'" Della chuckled. "Okay, it needs some work, but you get what I mean.

God won’t give you more than you can handle.’” Holiday chuckled. “And we just wish He didn’t trust us so much, right?