“Hey, Carrots," he says.”

“Hi there," Tucker says brightly, like we're bumping into each other on the street. "Uh, hi.""Nice night for stalking," he observes."No, I was---""Get your butt in here, Carrots.”

“Fine.” He smirks at me. “Nice to meet you, Carrots,” he says, looking directly at my hair. “Oh, I mean Clara.”My face flames.“Same to you, Rusty,” I shoot back, but he’s already striding away.”

“See, that's what I like about you, Carrots You're not fussy.”

“Angela says that angel-bloods are supposed to be immune to cold. It helps with the flying at high altitudes, I guess." I shiver again. "I must not have gotten the memo." He smiles. "Maybe that power only applies to mature angel-bloods." "Hey, are you calling me immature?" "Oh no," he says, his smile blossoming into a full-blown grin. "I wouldn't dare." "Good. Because I'm not the one peeping into someone else's window.”

“Hey, you feel like driving today?" he asks. "I don't want to walk to the bus stop. It's too cold.""You feel like dying today?""Sure. I like risking my life. Keeps things in perspective.”

“That's the hardest part," he says. "The absence of certainty.”