“I sighed and put Slayer between the front seats. "Stay here. Guard the car."Saiman shut the door. "Is the sword sentient?""No. But I like to pretend it is.”

“Shut the front door!”

“Don't pretend you don't like it when I treat you as a lady.”“Maybe I don't.”Despite that, he still opened the car door for me, with his lips curving up into a careless grin. “Girls always do that,” he said, “—pretend they think you're taking their independence from them if you open a door. But that's not the case.”“Well, what is the case?” I sat down on the front seat—leaving my feet on the driveway.“Simply that we're demonstrating good-breeding; showing the girl we're worthy and capable of taking care of her—that we're polite, considerate and nurturing.”I folded my arms. “Women don't need nurturing—or to be taken care of. We can fend for ourselves. We're equal to men, you know.”

“You must be a blast on long car rides.”“Oh, I am. You haven't experienced fun until you try to fuck in the front seat of a Civic.”

“Shut the front door!” Jenna exclaimed.Andrew disappeared into the foyer, and when he returned, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. “The door is shut?”

“The problem with being a modern woman, I thought, as the front door swung wide, is that you have to pretend to be stronger than you are.”