“You’re an escapee from the loony bin,” I said. “You’re the butt of every joke ever told. You might as well be the chicken that crossed the road.”

“Just be prepared," she said. "When you do come back to live with me, you are SO GROUNDED for calling me the chicken that crossed the road.”

“You’re not a whore. You’re a chick who hasn’t exactly grown up with every advantage, and you’ve learned to use what you’ve got. You don’t do it on purpose. It’s second nature. You act girly and helpless and make men think you’re harmless.”

“I understand I can’t have you. But I want to know you’re in the world with me.”

“But you can’t live your life worried about dying all the time. If you do, you’re dead already.”

“All right," I said. "But from now on, every time you show me a dead body, I'm having sex with Eric.”

“Sean stood there with a mischievous grin, hand still forming a claw. He’d tapped on the door with his fingernails to fool me.I slammed the door in his face.Before the latch caught, the door bounced open again. Cameron stood just behind Sean with the rubber toe of his shoe blocking the door from shutting. “You look likehell,” Cameron said.“I look like Sean.” is was a joke from my darkest memory. If Sean told me I was ugly, I could deflect the insult easily, because he was calling himself the same name. IfCameron told me I was ugly, he was also insulting Sean, and Sean would get revenge on him without me having to do a thing.”