“You should be careful, tossing descriptors like that around in a situation like this. My ‘problem’ isn’t little. Unless you’re drawing some pretty wild comparisons. Please tell me you’re not drawing wild comparisons. Or blood-relative comparisons.”

“I'm not a little girl." And he'd never spoken to me like that. Not ever. "I don't know what your problem is, but unless you pay the rent on my house or wear the black suspenders at the Cinemark, you don't get to tell me what to do.”

“Survival strategy. If you’re not careful, this place will eat you alive, and Kaylee’s like bait for the beasts.”

“You bitch!"Why is it that whenever I draw blood, I'm a bitch?”

“Yeah.” I took another deep breath. “I’m gonna die, Emma.”“You mean eventually, right?” She blinked, and I could tell it hadn’t sunk in. “Please tell me you’re making some kind of big-picture philosophicalstatement about the inevitability of death and the transient nature of human existence.”“Not eventually, Em. Sometime on Thursday.”

“Hey." Tod squeezed my hand to draw me out of my thoughts. "I think death looks good on you.”

“You deserve better than me,” I whispered, and the selfish part of me hoped he wouldn’t hear.He heard.Marc spun me around so fast I would have slipped again if he weren’t holding me up. We were so close drops of water from his chin fell onto my chest, and I had to crane my neck to see him.“You are perfect for me, Faythe, just like you are, because you’re not perfect. You’re headstrong, and impulsive, and outspoken, and I’m possessive, and overprotective, and too easy to piss off. We’re both wrong for a lot of things, but we’re right for each other. Do you understand?”I nodded. I didn’t know what else to do.”