I still have a whopping bad case of what you call scag magnetism. I thought i had gotten rid of it there, but it looks like scary guys still materialize from thin air in my presence. They are drawn to me. I am the North Pole, and they are the explorers of love.

Why Paris? Paris needs no reason. Paris is its own reason.

She firmly held the theory that everyone gets at least one very stupid superpower.

Prefects. I had learned this one. Student council types, but with superpowers. They who must be obeyed.

Hey! Jack the Wanker! Over here! I want your autograph!

Irony is the word I forget the meaning of immediately after I look it up, but I kind of feel like I live in a constant state of it.

Before I take you into the beating heart of the story, let’s get one thing out of the way. I know from experience that when it comes up later, it will distract you so much that you won’t be able to concentrate on anything else I will tell you. My name is Jubilee Dougal. Take a moment and let it sink in.