“Eve was still frowning at the pasta like she suspected it was going to do somethingclever, like try to escape from the pot.”

“Um… Eve…can I ask…?”“About what?” Eve was still frowning at the pasta like she suspected it to do something clever, like try to escape the pot.“You and Michael.”“Oh.” A surge of pink to Eve’s cheeks. Between that and the fact that she was wearing colors outside of the Goth red and black rainbow, she looked young and very cute. “Well. I don’t know if it’s – God, he’s just so–”“Hot?” Claire asked.“Hot,” Eve admitted. “Nuclear hot. Surface of the sun hot. And–”She stopped, the flush in her cheeks getting darker. Claire picked up a wooden spoon and poked the pasta, which was beginning to loosen up. “And?”“And I was planning on putting the moves on him before all this happened. That’s why I had on the garters and stuff. Planning ahead.”“Oh, wow.”“Yeah, embarrassing. Did he peek?”“When you were changing?” Claire asked. “I don’t think so. But I think he wanted to.”“That’s okay then.” Eve blinked down at the pasta, which had formed a thick white foam on top. “Is it supposed to be doing that?”Claire hadn’t ever seen it happen at her parents’ house. But then again, they hadn’t made spaghetti much. “I don’t know.”“Oh, crap!” The white foam kept growing, like in one of those cheesy science fiction movies. The foam that ate the Glass House…it mushroomed up over the top of the pot and down over the sides, and both girls yelped as it hit the burners and began to sizzle and pop. Claire grabbed the pot and moved it. Eve turned down the burner. “Right, pasta makes foam, good to know. Too hot. Way too hot.”“Who? Michael?” Claire asked, and they dissolved in giggles.”

“Shane’s dad stopped the van,” Claire said. “He took Monica as a hostage.”For a second, neither one of them moved, and then Eve whooped and held up her hand for a high five. Claire just stared at her, and Eve compensated by clapping both hands over her head. “Yesssss!” she said, and did a totally geeky victory dance. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer psycho!”“Hey!” Claire yelled, and Eve froze in midcelebration. It was stupid, but Claire was angry; she knew Eve was right, knew she had no reason at all to think Monica was ever going to be anything but a gigantic pain in the ass, but… “Shane’s dad’s going to burn her if they go through with the execution. He has a blowtorch.”The glee dropped out of Eve’s expression. “Oh,” she said. “Well…still. Not like she didn’t ask for it. Karma’s a bitch, and so am I.”

“Want me to warm up the sauce?”“Do we do that? I mean, it’s in a jar, right? Can’t you just dump it over the pasta?”“Well, you can, but it tastes better if you warm it up.”“Oh.” Eve sighed. “This is complicated. No wonder I never cook.”

“Bathroom, maybe? Which is where I need to go.""Ooh, me, too," Eve said. The boys rolled their eyes, like they'd planned it. "What? It's what girls do. Get over it.”

“I’m sorry, Eve. I love you. I’m not letting you do this.”She screamed and battered harder. “You love me? You asshole! Let me go!”

“She wasn't absolutely sure who kissed whom this time. Maybe it was gravity tilting, stars exploding. It felt like it.... She gasped into his open mouth, and he moaned. Moaned. She had no idea a sensation could go through her like that, traveling through her skin and nerves like lightning.... Okay, this was kissing. Serious kissing. Not just a kiss before moving out, not a goodbye, this was Hello, sexy, and wow, she'd never even suspected it could feel this way.”