Um, there's a girl meeting her friend,' he went on. 'Her friend is giving her an ice-cream cone. Oh-it's dripping. Huh. It, uh, dripped on her...chest.' Iggy drew in a hissing breath. It's gonna stain for sure,' the Gasman said. 'That's chocolate.' Hmm,' Fang said, watching, the girl dab at her chest with a paper napkin.

I’m not comfortable in this stadium,” I explained, trying to look calm. “I know. And you hate Fang looking at those girls. But we’re still having fun, and Fang still loves you, and you’ll still save the world. Okay?

I learnt to love reading. And then I started scribbling stories, and I liked that even more.

guess they forgot to program us with any respect for authority." "well, I have a highly developed sense of irony.

I'm a girl who has been tamping down her emotions and keeping them tightly guarded her whole life. And that works really well for me. [...] And now I felt like my shell had a dangerous crack in it. Without much more effort on his part, it would split wide open and my enormous river of emotions would gush out - the bad and the good. It was pretty much the scariest thing I'd ever thought of.

I flipped down the visor so I could check myself in the mirror, and something small and heavy dropped into my lap. I froze, my breath stuck in my throat. What—? Gingerly, I looked down. It wasn’t a grenade. It was a key ring. One key was for this van. I looked at it blankly. “Well, that’ll simplify things,” Fang said.

Love means you can never be apart.