“Chase nuzzled the carpet with his cheek. “You’re my new best friend.”
“I don’t know what surprised me more: the part where Chase completely gave us away, the part where he got mad at his dad, or the part where he called me his friend.”
“Wow.” Chase looked pleased with himself. “If I had known that teaching would get you to listen to me, I would’ve tried this much earlier.” “Well, you’re a better teacher than Hansel,” I said. “Can you tell Hansel that?” Chase grinned. “Can I be there when you tell Hansel that?”
“Rory, are you okay?” Lena asked. “Yeah, you’ve been sighing a lot.” Chase was so concerned he even put down his fudge. “Do you have a crush on me too?” I stared at him incredulously, not sure I had heard him right, and Melodie said, “You are remarkably self-involved.” Chase looked insulted. “Adelaide sighed a lot right before she said she had a crush on me.” “She had to tell you?” Lena said, surprised. I snorted. “That’s totally it. It was the paint on your face. ‘My heart awakens in sight of your green skin/as clean and warty as a toad’s has ever been—’” I said in my best reciting voice, and we all laughed.”
“Go,” Chase said. “Crawl under the door. I’ll try to buy you some time.” Obviously, someone woke up in a self-sacrificing mood.”
“I’d been to ten schools in the last three years.”
“When they reached the stairs, he didn’t make her climb them herself. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the big bathroom off their bedroom. He didn’t speak, his expression didn’t soften. But he was hard. His cock was like a poker, steely and hot against her hip. His eyes blazed with lust.”
“...a young man, Jamaican, perhaps, his head circled in a scarf with sunbleached dreadlocks on piled on top, looking like a plate of soft-shell crabs.”
“What makes a treasure a treasure." Marine replied, "is how rare a find it is, when you need it the most.”
“In fairy tales there's always one person who is made for one other, and they find each other and live happily ever after. Cal was my person. I couldn't imagine anyone more perfect. Yet what kind of sick fairy tale would it be if he was the one made exactly right for me and I wasn't right for him?”
“If I'm not a murderer," asked Corny, "how come I keep killing people?”
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