“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 don’t know if any plot involving Spencer would be good versus evil, more like evil versus slightly less evil.”

“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?”

“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?”

“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.”

“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.”

“Umm…Jinx is it? I have no idea why you thought you needed protection from me before, but if you call me bitch ever again, you’ll be needing protection from me in the future because I will be shoving my foot up your skinny little ass. Comprende?”