“And even though I had freckles and red hair and almost killed Grandma Bramhall, I danced like I didn’t.”

“You watch. Someday you’re going to love those freckles.” “No I’m not.” Mr. John leapt through the air after that, feet flailing and his back arched too far away from his knees: his worst one yet. After both of our ankles got splashed again, Grandma Bramhall picked up my chin and said, “You are as beautiful as your mom was,” and then kissed my cheek with hers. I looked down at the mirrors in her sarong again, tiny little pieces of blue sky in them. “Thanks,” I said quietly. “You’re welcome,” Grandma Bramhall said squeezing my hand. “How was that?” Mr. John yelled, popping up and dog paddling toward us. I snuck a look at Grandma Bramhall. “A ten,” I said. “Yes!” Mr. John yelled, raising both fists this time and sinking back into the water. Grandma Bramhall and I had to suck in our cheeks not to laugh. “See how beautiful you are, Apron?”

“There was Kir, red hair combed back and That Expression on his sharp face. Even his freckles looked serious. I'd given up wondering how a freckle-faced teenager could look so much like a disapproving granny.”

“I hate the color red almost as much as i hate blond hair,"he said with an amused tone.-Dank”

“Johnny it's Persephone Alcmedi. I..." "Hey Red." That threw me. My hair's dark dark brown. "Red " "I've decided I'm going to call you Red from now on." "All right. Why " He snickered in a very masculine way and lowered his voice. "Cause I like the idea of the big bad wolf visiting you and Grandma.”

“After killing the red-haired man, I took myself off to Quinn’s for an oyster supper.”