“Got your text,” he said when I climbed out. “How much did it hurt?”“Not at all,” I said. “Apparently, I can’t get a tattoo because I’m a witch.”“I could have told them-” He stopped. “Oh, you said witch.”“Ha-ha.”

“This is so cool,” I said as Dad walked away. “Have you met the tattoo artist? Is he hot?“He’s a she,” Mom said.“Is she hot? Cause I’m still young, you know. My sexual identity isn’t fully formed.”

“I got to eavesdrop at a window. As Clay said, I did have another option. I could wait in the car and let them fill me in later. So, eavesdropping it was.”

“He blocked me. " What'd you do, Chloe?"I sidestepped. He sidesteped."You like him, don't you?" he said. "Yes, I like him. Just not...""Not what?""Talk to Simon. He's the one who thinks...""Thinks what?"Step. Block."Thinks what?""That there's someone else," I blurted before I could stop myself. I took a deep, shuddering breath. "He thinks there's someone else.""Who?"I was going to say I don't know. Some guy from school, I guess. But Derek's expression already knew the answer. The look on his face...It'd been humiliating before, having Simon accuse me of liking Derek, but that was nothing compared to how I felt when I saw Derek's look. Not just surprise, but shock. Shock and horror."Me?" he said. "Simon said he thinks you and I are-" "No, not that. He knows we aren't-""Good. So what does he think?""That I like you." Again, the words flew out before I could stop them.”

“I-I didn't..." Derek began.He scrambled from under Liam. The werewolf's body fell, limp, to the side, his head twisted, neck broken.Derek swallowed. The sound echoed in the silence. "I didn't-- I just-- I was trying to stop him.""You didn't mean it," I said softly. "But he did."He looked at me, eyes refusing to focus."He would have killed you," I said."Killed both of us, if it came down to it. You might not have meant to do it, but..."I didn't finish. I could have said the world was better off without Liam, but we both knew the point wasn't whether Liam deserved to die, but whether Derek deserved the guilt of killing someone. He didn't.”

“This is so cool," I said loudly as Dad walked away. "Have you met the tattoo artist? Is he hot?" "He's a she," Mom said. "Is she hot? Cause I'm still young, you know. My sexual identity isnt fully formed." "Your father can't hear you anymore, Maya." Mom sighed.”

“I don't forgive him," I said."Hell, no, you don't. And why should you? So he can feel better? Get on with his life? And what's he done to help you get on with yours?”