Foul!" yelled Jamie, who seemed extremely happy not to be the one facing a blade. "Distracting technique! Put your shirt back on right now.

The cut in Nick's arm was starting to throb dully with the pressure he was putting on it. He kept looking at Alan. 'How many times have you lied to me?' he asked in a soft voice. Alan replied, equally softly, 'I've lost count.

I can smite you " Nick grumbled. "Anytime I like.

On the morning of the fourth day, Jamie tipped a switchblade out of his box of cornflakes. “I think these promotional campaigns have really got out of hand,” he said, freezing with his hand on the milk carton. “One shiny free knife with every packet of cereal bought is not a good message to send out to the kiddies.

I saw you put rice in a toaster once," said Mae. "I was there when made the tin of beans explode." "It was faulty," Jamie protested, his eyes shifty. " I am sure of this.

I can't be any more addicted to it than I already am,"Jamie said slowly, as though he'd rehearsed this, and then waiting for a cue Nick obviously had no intention of giving." Think about crack!" Jamie added, clearly struck by insperation. "Yes! It's like I'm a crack addict, and you're my friend the drug dealer who gives me crack for free, and I know you're just trying to be a good friend, but every time I think 'Wow, this crack might be a little bit of a problem for me,' you're there to say, 'Have some more delicious crack.' Am I making sense?" Nick stared."Hardly ever in your life.

Listen to me. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what any of this means. But I know this much. It doesn’t matter. You’re not one of them. You never were. You’re not theirs. You’re mine.