It's hard to imagine a place like that really exists. People have been judging me my whole life.

Any book is a Good Book, and wherever they keep the Good Book safe is also the House a the Lord.

When she slept, she looked peaceful, beautiful. Not Lena's kind of beautiful, something different. She looked content - like a sunny day, a cold glass of milk, an unopened book before you cracked the binding.

If this was a movie, we would've sat down at the table with the guys and they would have learned some kind of valuable lesson, like not to judge people by how they look, or that being different is okay. And Lena would've learned that all jocks weren't stupid and shallow. It always seemed to work in movies, but this wasn't a movie. This was Gatlin, which severely limited what could happen.

I wish I could print up a sign and tape it on my forehead. I OFFICIALLY DO NOT WANT TO KISS ETHAN WATE. NOW PLEASE LET ME BE FRIENDS WITH HIM.

Don’t think so. We all make our choices, and those choices have consequences.

I watched for her hair to curl, the telltale Caster breeze. It didn't move. This wasn't Caster magic she was working. It was another kind altogether. She couldn't charm her way out from under Macon's watch. She would have to resort to older magic, stronger magic, the kind that had worked best on Macon from the time she first moved to Ravenwood. Plain old love.