“Um … that’s the second time you’ve snorted in the last ten minutes. I think that’s got to be some kind of dork record. You do that a lot?”

“That’s amazing. You’re five years younger than me and you’re the one giving me the much-needed advice. Thank you.”“Yeah, well in all honesty, I just pulled most that stuff out of my ass. But still, you’re welcome.”

“Wait a minute, who was in your room then?”…“That would be me,” Spencer replies smugly from the entryway. How does he always pop up at the most inopportune times? It’s like he has some radar in his brain that tells him the best time and place where douchebaggery may occur, and he follows it religiously.”

“I know you white girls are all touchy feely, but, could you not? I feel like I’m a felon on death row every time you touch me. It’s like, damn, can I get a last meal at least before getting hooked up to the electric machine?”

“You know I’m just joking, Phee. I told you before and I will say it as many times as I have to. I’m going to be the one that saves you … every time.”

“And just so you know, I would never drive you to your imminent doom. Hopefully, I’ll be the guy driving you away from it. Always.”

“There’s a neon green post-it note stuck to the window ledge. It says DON’T EVEN TRY —R, in bold capital letters. Yeah, like I am going to listen to a sticky note from my captor....DON’T EVEN TRY, my ass. It must be Reece’s idea of a joke. Ha ha, so funny. It’s going to be even funnier when I kick him in the balls the next time I see him.”