So could we please not mob the three-thousand-plus-year-old reaper like tweens at a boy-band concert?

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

There was just no good way for a dead son to greet his mother almost two weeks after his funeral.

If Eastlake High School were the universe, I would be one of the moons circling Planet Emma, constantly hidden by her shadow, and glad to be there. Nash Hudson would be one of the stars: too bright to look at, too hot to touch and at the center of his own solar system.

So ... will you stay with me until it's over? Please?" "Kaylee, I would do anything for the girl who granted my dying wish.

I went up on my toes to kiss him, and he groaned. "Do you really think this is appropriate on school grounds?" "Nope." I wrapped my arms around his neck. "And I happen to know there isn't an appropriate thought running through your head right now." "Or any other time." Tod pulled me close and held me so tight my ribs almost hut, but I didn't want him to let go. Ever.

Are you going to deliver whatever threat Avari sent you with, or are we going to have to start guessing?" Tod said. "I gotta warn you, I'm insanely good at charades.