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Holy silicone suppository, Batman!” Ethan said, grinning. Dan snorted, Parker coughed to disguise a laugh, and I glared at them all. “What?” My brother shrugged defensively. “That’s what it looks like.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Snorted
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Holy
Parker
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Grinning
Coughed
Batman
Defensively
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Ethan
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...sometimes compassion is the greater part of honor.
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But all I said, as I dug a five from my pocket to pay for my soda, was, You have a friend? Tod scowled. Well, I wouldn't call him a friend according to the traditional definition, but in the sense that he imposes on me constantly and isn't afraid to point out my flaws, I'd say he qualifies. Sounds more like a cousin.
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So you’re saying the afterlife is hard on the libido? FYI, that’s probably not a good bullet point for your recruiting brochure.
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What if the house catches fire?” “Roast marshmallows. And if it floods, you’ll go down with the ship. If there’s a tornado, I’ll meet both you and this house in Oz, after my shift. Got it?
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He’s not like you, Tod. Aside from a couple of notable exceptions, you tend to think things through, but Nash is ruled by his heart—
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Not even if you fed me your firstborn, still wet and screaming
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He went down like a cheerleader after prom.
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Forever used to feel like a curse. Now it feels like a promise.
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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.
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I mean, creatures who only exist in the dark don't know they're missing the sun, right? But once you've seen the sun. Once you've seen it light up the world ... once you've felt its heat all around you ... inside you ... He clutched his own chest, and my heart cracked open. Its hard to live in the dark after the sun dies.
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He’s like the Rasputin of reapers.
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If I love you more than you love me, I’m as good as dead. Yet I can’t make myself take it back. I can’t just walk away from you, because every time you pass by me without smiling, without touching my hand, or at least making eye contact, it feels like I’m dying inside.
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I should have mixed something stronger than Coke floats.
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I don't want to wear your dad's clothes. He hates me. You'd rather wear mine? Nash scowled.
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You should be careful, tossing descriptors like that around in a situation like this. My ‘problem’ isn’t little. Unless you’re drawing some pretty wild comparisons. Please tell me you’re not drawing wild comparisons. Or blood-relative comparisons.
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Because in most cases, I believe that people deserve a second chance. And because I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd stood by and let them both die souless, when I could have helped.
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I couldn't see who swam in the darkness, who wore shadows like a second skin.
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Her dark-eyed glare narrowed on me. You could have least given him a shirt, Kaylee. Like you're an expert on when it's appropriate to wear a shirt. Sabine bristled. This seems headed into girl-fight territory, Tod said. Should I make popcorn?
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Leave the door open, my dad said, the second most common warning in his arsenal. Right behind, Nash, go home.
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