Emma and I had both died twice, and for me, that second one actually stuck. Now I was a "resurrected American," better known, in colloquial terms, as life-challenged. Or undead. Or the living dead. But I'm not a zombie. I'm just a little less alive than your average high school junior.

I've seen this episode. This is the one where Sylvester eats Tweety.

Why do they call it losing your virginity, anyway? It's Not Like I don't know where I left it." "You'd be surprised how many people don't.

Was I wearing my 'I'm done with my virginity, please get rid of it for me' T-shirt?

Tod's pale brows arched halfway up his forehead, and he looked suddenly, achingly wistful. "She knows not what she says..." Maybe not. But I was starting to get a pretty good idea.

Congratulations. Your official super-nerd badge is in the mail.

I nodded, chewing my own syrup-soaked bite. "But surely that's not all there is to it. I mean, really? A big picnic? That's Avari's master plan? That makes him sound about as dangerous as Yogi Bear." Tod shrugged. "Yeah. If Yogi were a soul-sucking, body-stealing, boyfriend-snatching, damned-soul-torturing evil demon from another world. Besides, what else could he be planning?