“Good luck explaining to God that you used to spank one of his heavenly beings."
Mom gave a startled laugh. "Sophie!"
"What? You did. I hope you like hot weather, Mom, that's all I'm saying.”
“I heard the man and woman cry a warning as I frantically racked my brain for some sort of throat-repairing spell, which I was clearly about to need. Of course the only words that I actually managed to yell at the werewolf as he ran at me were, 'BAD DOG!'
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of blue light on my left. Suddenly, the werewolf seemed to smack into an invisible wall just inches in front of me....
"You know," someone said off to my left, "I usually find a blocking spell to be a lot more effective than yelling 'Bad dog,' but maybe that's just me.”
“Let's just say you may regret that second piece of cake.'
Oh my God. Regret cake? Whatever was about to happen must be truly evil.”
“Sophia Mercer," Elodie intoned, "we have come to induct you into our sisterhood. Say the five words to begin the ritual."
I blinked at her. "Are you freaking kidding me?"
Anna gave an exasperated sigh. "No, the five words are 'I accept you offer, sisters.”
“Now, Sophia, would you care to tell me why you're here by the pond instead of reporting to your next class?'
'I'm experiencing some teenage angst, Mrs. Casnoff,' I answered. 'I need to, like, write in my journal or something.”
“So if you can heal with your touch, why are you working here as like, Hagrid, or whatever?”
“Archer isn't hot anymore.... He tried to kill me, and his girlfriend is Satan.”
“But this room looked like it had been decorated by the unholy lovechild of Barbie and Strawberry Shortcake.”
“When someone tells you somebody’s been murdered, laughing is probably not the best response. You know, for future reference.
But laughing is exactly what I did.”
“I was literally seeing stars, and every ragged breath I took felt like I was trying to breathe through broken glass.
On the upside, my crush on Archer was totally gone. Over. Once a boy has slammed his kneecap into your rib cage, I think any romantic feeling should naturally go the way of the ghost.”
“Archer?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. Hey, you might be able to take away my magical powers, but the power of sarcasm was still at my disposal. “Is your last name Newport or Vanderbilt? Maybe followed by some numbers? Ooh!” I said, widening my eyes, “or maybe even Esquire!”
I’d hoped to hurt his feelings or, at the very least, make him angry, but he just kept smiling at me. “Actually, it’s Archer Cross, and I’m the first one. Now what about you?” He squinted. “Let’s see . . . brown hair, freckles, whole girl-next-door vibe going on . . . Allie? Lacie? Definitely something cutesy ending in ie.”
You know those times when your mouth moves but no sound actually comes out? Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened. And then, of course, my mom took that opportunity to end her conversation with Justin’s parents and call out, “Sophie! Wait up.”
“I knew it.” Archer laughed. “See you, Sophie,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house.”
“I don't know what I was expecting a vampire's room to look like. Maybe lots of black, a bunch of books by Camus... oh, and a sensitive portrait of the only human the vamp ever loved, who had no doubt died of something beautiful and tragic, thus dooming the vamp to an eternity of moping and sighing dramatically.
What can I say? I read a lot of books.”
“Both of us widened our eyes and said, "Woah."
Then I immediately blushed. Oh my God, had I just looked at Archer and said, "Whoa"?
But...wait a minute. Had Archer just looked at me and said "Whoa"?”
“Don't worry about it," I said."Hey werewolves gotta drool, vampires gotta eat..”
“Archer! Let us fetch a spot of tea, old boy!”
“I should say upfront that I have never been in a cellar in my life. In fact, I can see no reason why anyone should ever go into a cellar unless there is wine involved.”
“The "Holy-crap-that's-a-lot-of-pink" zone would have been a more accurate description.”
“He raised an eyebrow, which made me totally jealous. I've never been able to do that. I always just end up raising both of them and looking surprised or scared instead of sardonic.”
“You can't do a blocking spell, and you've never heard of L'Occhio di Dio? Man, what kind of witch are you?"
I had an incredibly nasty retort ready that involved his mother and the U.S. Navy, but before I could get it out....”
“Archer Cross, resident bad boy and total heartthrob. Warlock. Every girl here is at least, like, half in love with him. Crushing on Archer Cross might as well be a class.”
“I tugged at the hem of my brand-new Hecate Hall issue blue plaid skirt (Kilt? Some sort of bizarre skirt/kilt hybrid? A skilt?)”
“You hate him for what he did, but you miss him.”
“Anyway, even if Archer was insane enough to have a thing for Sophie, after the All Hallow’s Eve Ball, he won’t even think about looking at another girl.”
“Why?”
“I’ve decided to give myself to him.”
Oh, gross. Who says stuff like that? Why didn’t she just say “delicate flower” or “carnal treasure” or something equally stupid?”
“A smile played around the corners of his mouth. He looked up at me. "Bad dog.”
“She plunged her snout into my hair and took a deep shuddering breath.
A warm string of drool dripped from her open maw onto my bare shoulder.
I forced myself to stay very calm, and after a moment, she released me.
Giving a bashful shrug, she said, "Sorry. Werewolf thing."
"Hey, no problem," I said, even though all I could think was, Slobber! Werewolf slobber! On my skin!”
“I'd been harboring this secret fantasy that he was only pretending to like her so that he could publicly dump her in the most embarrassing way possible, preferably on national television.”
“Yeah, it's beautiful. For a prison.”
“You're the healing janitor dude."
"Groundskeeper."
"Isn't that like a janitor?"
"No, it's like a groundskeeper.”
“I bet she woke up with her hair looking like something out of a Pantene commercial while little bluebirds circled around her head, and raccoons brought her breakfast or something.”
“Thanks to the humidity, my hair felt like it had tripled in size. I could feel it
trying to devour my sunglasses like some sort of carnivorous jungle plant.”
“Mejor morir en la batalla que vivir como un cobarde.”
“that you will know and accept Jesus Christ as your Savior and Lord and learn who you are in Him.”
“Don't be scared. I'll look after you.”
“The art of presenting oneself, he had once told Sybil, lies in creating an immediate shock which is countered by a slow retreat into custom. People never quite recover from my cravats, but they will never find the equal of my tailor. To be memorable is all, when it comes to dress.”
“The entire ball game, in terms of both the exam and life, was what you gave attention to vs. what you willed yourself to not.”
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