“What's the woman doing there?" he asked."Covering a scratch on the hood. She was cheaper than a new paint job."He flipped through a few more pages of barely dressed women and classic cars. "Nick used to have magazines like this when we were kids. But without the cars." He rotated a photo sideways. "Or the bathing suits.”

“How'd you communicate?""Paper and pen. Amazing inventions. Anyway, once we were in Buffalo, I led him here. We couldn't figure out a way in and he got stressed and apparently that" -- she waved at him--- "is what happens when a werewolf gets stressed. By then, the garage door was open, some staff guy bringing in a car. He took one look at Derek and decided it was time for a new job”

“He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt and had stopped in the middle of the hall, furiously scratching one bare forearm. "Fleas?" I said.”

“He liked women with little butts and big tits? Someone had played with one too many barbie dolls as a kid.”

“Simon's walls were covered in what looked like pages ripped from a comic book, but when I squinted, I realized they were hand drawn. Some were black-and-white, but most were in full color,everything from character sketches to splash panels to full pages, done in a style that wasn't quite manga, wasn'tquite comic book.”

“He pulled back, barely a fraction, but I knew he was hurt. Why was it so easy to do that these days? For both of us. He wouldn't want to talk about something, and I'de be hurt. Or I wouldn't want to talk about something, and he'd be hurt. Or he'd invite me along with the guys, and I'd analyze every nuance of his voice and expression, worrying that he really didn't want me along, was only being polite. Or, like the other night, I'd want to comfort him, but would be worried about how he might misinterpret that.It never used to be like this. Maybe that's just part of having a close friend of the opposite sex. As a kid, you don't think anything about it. Then you're a teenager, and you can't help but think about it.”

“Derek looked around, like he was searching for something to use. Then he stripped off his shirt. I tried not to look away. Not that he looked bad without his shirt. The opposite, actually, which is why...Let's just say friends are really better when they're fully clothed.”