“Says the girl dressed up in formal Goth mourning," Shane said. "Seriously, who buys a black lace veil? You keep that on hand for special occasions, like prom and kid's birthdays?”

“Girls think they’re only allowed to wear dresses on formal occasions, but I like a woman who says, you know, I’m going over to see a boy who is having a nervous breakdown, a boy whose connection to the sense of sight itself is tenuous, and gosh dang it, I am going to wear a dress for him.”

“I’m not a kid!” she told Shane hotly. “I’m only, like, a year younger than Eve!”“And girls are much more mature.” Eve nodded wisely. “So you’re about ten years older than Shane, then.”“Seriously,” Claire insisted. “I’m not a kid!”“Whatever you say, kid,” Shane said blandly. “Cheer up. Just means you don’t have to put up with me telling you how much sex I didn’t get.”“I’m telling Michael,” Eve warned.“About how much sex I didn’t get? Go ahead.”

“Augustus glanced away from the screen ever so briefly. “You look nice,” he said. I was wearing this just-past-the-knees dress I’d had forever. “Girls think they’re only allowed to wear dresses on formal occasions, but I like a woman who says, you know, I’m going over to see a boy who is having a nervous breakdown, a boy whose connection to the sense of sight itself is tenuous, and gosh dang it, I am going to wear a dress for him.”

“Bite me, Goth princess,” Shane called from the back. “Not literally or anything.”“Maybe you should say that to Michael.”“Not funny, Eve,” Michael said.Eve raised her eyebrows and held her fingers up, measuring off about an inch. “Little bit,” she said.”

“Nobody's cut out for this town," Shane said. "Nobody sane anyway.""Says the kid who came back.""Yeah, kind of proves my point.”