Yeah, she was hot, all right, but I think she had the hots for you - kept saying how she saw you over at the Waterhouse last year and you were all, like, wow, amazing. It was like a menage a trois, only you weren't there, thank God.

Jealous?" "Maybe." "No reason. I like my ladies with a pulse.

I knew we’d wear them down,” Eve said. “After all, we really are amazingly cool.” And now it was Eve’s turn for the high five with Shane. “For a bunch of misfit geeks, slackers, and losers.” Which one are you?” Shane asked. She flipped him off. “Oh, right. Loser. Thanks for reminding me.

Hannah leaned against the wall. "Mind if I call shotgun?" Since you're carrying one? Feel free.

You’re kind of a psycho. I get that.” “I might be,” Monica agreed, and gave her a slow, strange smile. “You’re one smart little freak. Now run away, smart little freak, before I change my mind and stick you in one of these old suitcases for some architect to find a hundred years from now.” Claire blinked. “Archaeologist.” Monica’s eyes turned winter cold. “Oh, you’d better start running away now.

Claire signed. "Go ahead. And thanks. Oh, and be careful?" "Please. I am the queen of careful. Also, princess of punk fabulousness."

It's not just a miracle; it's a miracle with chocolate. Best kind.