“I frowned at him. "Isn't sarcasm the opiate of the masses?""You're thinking of religion," he replied. "Sarcasm is the Xanax of the morally bereft.”

“He frowned. "Who cares about that? Screw the gerbils.""Screw them?" I raised an eyebrow. "Lyle, this is not your personal recreation time.”

“You're not being fair," I said."Life isn't fair.""Yeah, and no man is an island. Any other cliches you'd like to share?”

“Relax. This isn't the scary part yet.""Mmm, not helpful.""Try to think about puppies," he suggested. "No wait, not puppies. Think about kittens. Demons don't eat kittens. Too many hairballs.""Hey, maybe we could try not talking for a while.”

“Y'all probably watched a lot of television.""We didn't have TV.""Nintendo, then?"He shook his head."Fantasy football? Xbox?" I frowned. "Please tell me you had Angry Birds.""We had a library," he said, "and a few educational magazines.""Huh. Well, that's just tragic.”

“Your pupils are dilated," he said. "I think-""Yes?" I breathed."I think you have a concussion."I blinked. A concussion? That's so not where I thought he was going.”

“Black suits you," he commented."Don't get any ideas, Romeo."His frown curled into a slow grin, at once mocking and devastatingly handsome. "Ah, Shakespeare. 'How silver sweet lovers' tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears.'" He laughed. "Saw the movie, did you?""I also saw Buffy the Vampire Slayer," I said. "Guess which one I liked better.”