“You. O Positive. How many exits?""What?...Oh shit, did you just call me by my bloodtype?”

“Sam talking to a frat boy - "You. O Positive. How many exits?" "What?....Oh shit, did you just call me by my blood type?”

“I Promise," Shane said."You'd better, jerkface," Eve said. "How's the head?""Taped. It's fine, chicks dig scars. Wait, did you just call me jerkface? Are we back in grade school?""I love you," Eve said.He closed his moth, fast, because obviously that was not what he'd expected. "I, uh, okay, love you too. Can we stop that? It's uncomfortable.""Jerkface.""Much better.”

“We had this talk,” she said. “You may be dead sexy, and I mean, like, really dead and really sexy, but you don’t get to tell me what to do. Right? And no head-shrinker stuff, either, or I swear to God, I’ll pack my shit and move!”

“The door banged open, and Eve rushed out, flushed and mussed and still buttoning her shirt. 'It's not what you think,' she said. 'It was just—oh, okay, whatever, it was exactly what you think. Now, what?”

“Just who are you planning to call? Ghostbusters?”

“Is it him?” Dad asked. “Did he get you into trouble?”“Not me,” Shane said. “I’ve just got that kind of face.”