“She looks at me and at Dave. She looks out the curtain and strums her guitar. "Yeah," she says. "Oh yeah. This I can do.”

“You've been looking like this for months." Leo does something strange with his face."I don't look like that.""Yeah. You do.""I'll look like that if Daisy dumps me, and she'll dump me if she thinks I lied," Dylan says."You threw eggs at her head. Odds are she's dumping you anyway." I turn to Leo. "We decided. We said that we weren't telling anyone. We said it was art for art's sake. We said the more people knew, the more chance the cop's pick us up. We said it was you and me, no crew.""Are you sure I didn't say it was to score girls?”

“I told her yeah, but there was no skin on my voice and she heard the bones in my words like I did. And I knew.”

“I'm up for a Shadow hunt." She tries to let us out, but the lock's stuck. "That's weird.""Is this like an omen?" Daisy asks.Jazz unzips her boot and takes it off so she can slam it at the lock. "It's not an omen." Slam. "Tonight." Slam. "Is going to be great." Slam. "I've got a feeling." Slam. She puts her book back on and looks at us. "Okay, we'll have to climb out of here."She stands on the toilet seat and from there to the toilet-roll holder and then heaves herself over the wall. "Impresive," I say, and then we hear her slam to the ground."Less impressive," Daisy says."It doesn't mean anything," Jazz calls. "Trust me. I'm a psychic.”

“I looked up from that other place and saw Dave staring through the glass. I thought: That guy is a little gratitude, world peace, a new acoustic guitar, a bass guitar and hands that play like Flea, and the single "Break Your Heart" all at once. He smiled and waved. I'm sick of staring at what I want, I thought. I'd do anything to hold it in my hands.”

“ALYCE: 'Gracie's got brown hair, like me. She's about the same height, too. People notice her. I think it's her voice. It's always louder than you expect and covered with laughter.I was surprised when she said she didn't want to work with me. I don't know Gracie very well, but I remember once in Year 3 she gave me an invitation to her party. She spelt my name right. Everyone always spells it with an 'i', even the teachers. Ever since then I thought she would be nice. I never thought she'd look at me like I was nothing.”

“I'm psychic," she said, and looked at me looking nervously at the lock. "Psychic. Not pshycho. I'm Jazz Parker.”