We all know what we're doing. Whether we realize it or not.

It's us," Stephen said. "Oh, thank God," said a voice. Callum emerged from behind the Dumpster. Even with all that was going on, it was hard not to take notice of this: he wore only his underpants and his socks and shoes. ...I don't think I hid my staring very well either. "Go ahead and change," Stephen said, handing me the bag. "I'll go and get the car." "Please be quick," Callum added. "This is not as fun as it appears.

I dumped out the bag and found what had been inside was a bunched-up police uniform, complete with the vest. "Where did you get this?" Boo asked. "It's Callum's," he said. "What's he wearing?" "At the moment, not much of anything. Put it on." I noticed Book perk up a bit at this piece of information.

Mouth guard. And I think we'll start you in goal." Goal sounded like a special job. I didn't want a special job, unless that special job involved sitting on the side under a pile of blankets.

People always say they can't do things, that they're impossible. They just haven't been creative enough.

Tell me what you want, what you really, really want," he said. "Braiiinnnnssss," we said in unison.

No one in history had ever done less and yet been so wrong.