I am not cute. I am the dreaded Grim Reaper. People fear me, you know. There's a whole song about it.

A field trip. You interested in doing something dangerous, and possibly illegal?" Does it involve underage girls, broken curfews and soorte4d fruit toppings?" I dropped the empty can into the recycling bin and leaned against the kitchen peninsula, grinning like an idiot. "Two of the three. And I could probably scrounge up some strawberry jam, if you're desperate." "I'm never desperate," Tod said, only his voice hadn't come from my phone. I whirled around to see the reaper standing behind me, still holding his cell. "But for the record, I prefer apricot." "Yuck. Nobody likes apricot jam.

Harmony glanced to her left, and my gaze followed hers to the living room, where my aunt had died, my cousin had been restored, and I'd whacked a psychotic grim reaper with a cast-iron skillet. Weirdest. Tuesday. Ever.

But if there was a protocol for how to say goodbye to your newly ex-boyfriend's brother, right after you kissed him and probably sent your ex into the arms of his willing ex-girlfriend, I didn't know what it was.

Sometimes I suspected Ryan was merely visiting the real world, on vacation from his permanent residence in la-la land.

You're not lost, Kaylee. You can't ever be lost, because I'll always know where you are. And if I'm not there with you, I'm on my way, and nothing standing between us will be standing for very long.

So, what now? We’re friends?" Yeah. If friends could be in love, but not together. In sync, but out of touch. Willing to die for each other, but unable to trust.