People are here because they've got baggage. I'm talking curbside-check-in, pay-the-fine-'cause-it's-over-fifty-pounds kind of baggage. Get it?

Gabbe jumped up and seized the cocanut first, giving its contents a sniff. "Arriane, she has just been through a trama," she scolded. Arriane tossed her shoulders back. "Precisely why she needs something with a kick," she argued, holding the tray possessively while she and Gabbe engaged in a stare-down. "Fine," Arriane said, looking away from Gabbe.

She spotted a lone dandelion,and it crossed her mind that a younger Luce would have pounced on it and then made a wish and blown. But this Luce's wishes felt too heavy for something so light.

It's such a beautiful question, Luce. I adore you for asking it, and I wish I could explain it better. All I can tell you is this: The only way to survive eternity is to be able to appreciate each moment.

Luce and Daniel fell in love for the first- and the last- time

Before Luce could reply, a skinny, dark haired girl appeared in from of her, wagging her long fingers in Luce's face. "Ooooooh," the girl taunted in a ghost-story-telling voice, dancing around Luce in a circle. "The reds are watching youuuu." "Get out of here, Arriane, before I have you lobotimized," the attendant said, though it was clear from her first brief but genuine smile that she had some coarse affection for that crazy girl. It was also clear that Arriane did not reciprocate the love. She mimed a jerking-off motion at the attendant, then stared at Luce, daring her to be offended.

Oooh!" Bill squealed. "Very rococo." "So, I'm really doing this? I'm just going to go down there and pretend--" (Luce) "No pretending." Bill shook his head. "Own it. Own that cleavage, girl, you know you want to.