He was the only boy I'd found worth dating in God knows how many schools. I mean, ever since he'd been bitten by a werwulf he'd been rock-steady. The best thing about this totally effed-up situation.

I just . . . knew, the way you know how to breathe or to pull your hand back from a hot stove.

His eyebrows drew together. He was perilously close to unibrow; I guess nobody had held him down and administered a good plucking to the caterpillar climbing across his forehead.

White and scrubbed, antique brass fixtures and a skylight letting in a flood of sunshine. Wow. You could get a tan standing around in the shower, for Christ's sake.

And ordering me around is exactly the wrong way to make me do what you want.

Better to be strong than pretty and useless.

Touch me again, and it will be your last act in life - Blue Eyes.