“You have not been sticking your dirty fingers in my sauce,’’ Eve said, and pointed her wooden spoonat him.He quickly took the finger out of his mouth. ‘‘First off, they’re not dirty. I licked them first.”

“Better be," Eve said. She mock-bit at his finger. "I could totally date somebody else, you know.""And I could rent out your room.""And I could put your game console on eBay.""Hey," Shane protested. "Now you're just being mean.”

“Another thing I don't want on my tombstone," Shane said.You have others?" Claire asked.He held up one finger. "I thought it wasn't loaded," Shane said. Second finger. "Hand me a match so I can check the gas tank." Third finger. "Killed over ice cream. Basically, any death that requires me to be stupid first.”

“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.”

“He held up one finger. "I thought it wasn't loaded" Shane said. Second finger. "Hand me a match so I can check the gas tank." Third finger. "Killed over ice cream. Basically, any death that requires me to be stupid first."Michael shook his head. "So what's on your good list?""Oh you know. Hero stuff that gets me rerun on CNN, Like I died saving a busload of supermodels" Claire smacked his arm. "Ow! Saving them! What did you think I meant?”

“Fate" Eve said with a sigh"I'm not sure fate had to burn up your car to get the point across," Shane said, buckling his own seatbelt."No, not that. The hearse. I'm going to name it Fate."Shane stared at Eve for a long, long few seconds, then slowly shook his head. "Have you considered medication, or-"She flipped him off."Ah. Back to normal. Excellent.”

“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.”