“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.”

“(eve)"what?"(claire)"monica got him to ask me. Told them to do this." (eve)"bitch! okay,i take it all back. She needs a good blowtorching." "no",Claire said faintly."Nobody deservs that. Nobody." (eve) "Great.Saint Claire,the patron saint of the kick-me sign.”

“Take the back door," she said. "Claire, you and your strang friend-""Eve," they both said simultaneously, and Eve held out her fst for a bump. "Or, you could call me Eve the Great, Mistress of All She Surveys. Eve for short.”

“He was yelling at them all to follow. Claire didn't want to; she didn't trust them, any of them. But the boy took her hand, and said, "Trust me, Claire," and she felt something inside her that had been howling in fear...go quiet.”

“Eve hugged her, hard. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “What happened to the old frosting?”Shane, sitting at the table, raised his hand. “Took one for the team.”“Jesus, you ate it? All of it?”“Nah.” He held up the bowl that was sitting in front of him. There was still about half a cup left. “Couldn’t finish it all.”Eve blinked and looked at Claire, who shrugged and said, “I always thought he was sweet.”

“I – talked to her. She understands. She won’t do anything stupid.” He didn’t look at Claire when he said that, and she wondered what kind of talking that might have been.Her mother had always said, when in doubt, ask.“Was it the kind of talk where you gave her something to live for? Like maybe, um, you?”“Did I – what the hell are you talking about?”“I just thought maybe you and her–”“Claire, Jesus!” Michael said. She’d actually made him flinch. Wow. That was new. “You think banging me is going to make her forget about charging out to commit cold-blooded vampire slaying? I don’t know what kind of standards you have on sex, but those are pretty high. Besides, whatever’s between me and Eve – well, it’s between me and Eve.” Until she tells me about it later, Claire thought.”

“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.”