The door banged open and Eve rushed out, flushed and mussed and still buttoning her shirt. "It's not what you think." She said. "It was just - oh OK, whatever, it was exactly what you think. Now WHAT?

Want to play baseball?’” she asked. Shane’s eyes opened, and he stopped stroking her hair. “What?’” “First base,’” she said. “You’re already there.’” “I’m not running the bases.’” “Well, you could at least steal second.’” “Jeez, Claire. I used to distract myself with sports stats at times like these, but now you’ve gone and ruined it.

It's a good thing I've got to live with you two or I'd be putting this on YouTube later. And mocking you

Your education or your life, Claire. I'd rather you be alive and a little bit dumber.

Right. That’s the end of the line for you tonight. You’re going home, I’m seeing you safe inside, and I’m going home to hide in a closet until this blows over. I suggest you do the same.

You’re not seriously going out again, are you?” “Seriously, yeah. Bowling. Her name’s Laura. If you want more details, you’re gonna have to download the video like everybody else.

When she set Shane’s glass of Coke down in front of him, she did it with probably a little too much emphasis; he glanced up at her with a question-mark expression.[...] ‘‘What?’’ Shane asked her, and took a drink. ‘‘Did I forget to say thanks? Because, thanks. Best Coke ever. Did you make it yourself? Special recipe?