I had no name for that particular hue of orange, other than unfortunate.

Girl, it's an umbrella, not a Lamborghini.

Bite me, Goth princess,” Shane called from the back. “Not literally or anything.” “Maybe you should say that to Michael.” “Not funny, Eve,” Michael said. Eve raised her eyebrows and held her fingers up, measuring off about an inch. “Little bit,” she said.

One should never create tension between one's footwear.

She was starting to feel a little like a hamburger at a dieters’ convention. Nobody was likely to snack on her, but absolutely everybody noticed she was edible.

Hey, Mikey? You get her hurt and I'll end you." "You let anything happen to Eve and I'll do the same," Michael said. He'd just finished kissing Eve, too. "While you're at it, don't get yourself killed, either, bro." "Ditto. And don't kiss me.

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