I realise people exist who don't read. But it's like I knew there were people who didn't breathe or eat: I can't imagine a life like that.
I don't want to seem ungrateful when you have given me this thoughtful, homemade and totally terrifying gift," Jamie told him. "But you can't imagine I'm going to use it." "Just to hold someone off. Just remember what I taught you," said Nick. "Just buy a little time so I can come get you. Jamie. I'll come get you.
On the morning of the fourth day, Jamie tipped a switchblade out of his box of cornflakes. “I think these promotional campaigns have really got out of hand,” he said, freezing with his hand on the milk carton. “One shiny free knife with every packet of cereal bought is not a good message to send out to the kiddies.
In two words," said Alan quietly, "there is nothing I love half as much as you.
You want useless, you have come to the right guy. I can be useless for hours at a time. Weeks even. I'm currently closing in on a month of being totally useless, which is by way of being a personal best.
I am in full possession of the amazing power of being sarcastic.
Well, speaking as a feminist, I'm glad that women can lead--uh, groups of unspeakable magical evil." "Yes," Alan said gravely. "It'd be shoking if the evil magicians were sexist. For one thing, that would mean they were stupid, and having stupid enemies would be a terrible blow to my manly pride.
She was kind of in love with him.
Oh God, Mae," said Jamie in a hollow voice, descending the stairs. "I will never drink again. I'm only seeing in black and white. My arms feel all floppy, like flightless wings. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I looked like a very sad penguin.
I'm sorry about your face." Jamie looked over his shoulder, and touched the demon's mark crawling along his jaw with the back of his hand. "Sorry about saving all our lives by doing something you had to do?" "Oh no," Nick said blandly. "I just meant, you know. Generally.
Peter,” Ashley asked softly, “Do you know what that was?” “Of course,” Peter said, much affronted. “A thimble.” “No,” said Ashley, staring, “That was a kiss.” “Didn’t it strike you as a little different from other thimbles you’ve had in the past?” Peter looked shifty. “Well, yes.” “Ha!” “It was my first thimble with tongue.” Peter told her with dignity.
They carried on sniping in the front seat, and Mae turned back to Jamie. "You doing okay?" she murmured. "Yes," said Jamie, a bit too earnestly. "I love you, Mae. Your hair is the color of flamingos! And I love Nick as well." He gazed soulfully in Nick's direction. "Sometimes when you are not being psychotic, you are quite funny. And you!" He regarded Seb for a long moment. "No, I still don't like you," he decided. "Maybe I need another drink." "I don't think so," Nick said.
Jamie chose that moment to almost fall down the stairs. Mae took his whole weight and grabbed the banister. Seb reached out but Jamie shied away, and Nick gave Jamie a push in the chest that was clearly intended to right him, but that nearly had him toppling over backward. Balance eventually restored to them all, Jamie gave Nick an approving look. "You are my friend," he told him. "Yeah, I am," said Nick. "But these stairs," Jamie said sadly. "They are not my friends.
They walked to school, talking about how much they were longing for the summer holidays. "Oh, I am planning things," said Jamie. "Great, great things. I could join a band." "You gave up the guitar after two lessons." "Well," he said, "I could be a backup dancer." "Backup dancers have to wear belly shirts and glitter," said Mae. "So obviously, I support this plan.
Oh," she said, in a very different way. "Well. Thanks for my part in the compliment. Naturally I'd love to be watched and controlled, but I think I may be washing my hair that day.
Foul!" yelled Jamie, who seemed extremely happy not to be the one facing a blade. "Distracting technique! Put your shirt back on right now.
Get down,” he whispered. “I’m way ahead of you,” Jamie said from the floor
How many fingers am I holding up?" he inquired. Lucille regarded him blearily and said, "Avocado.
And they all lived happily ever after (barring death, divorce, arrest for tax fraud, that incident with the pool boy...)
Kami said, "I want you to go in there and vamp that receptionist." "What?" Ash said blankly. "You know," Kami said. "Dazzle her with your charms. Rock her world. Go on." [...] "What," Ash said, "all of us?" "Do you want to stand around trying to guess if she likes pretty boys or rough trade?" Jared asked, gesturing lazily from Ash to himself. "Excuse me, what did you just call yourself?" Ash demanded. "No, wait a second, I don't care. What did you just call me?
Personally, I'd prefer a guy who wants to see my boobs.
Your timing is amazing," Kami told him. "By which I mean, I am amazed by it.
Well, mi amore, this is awesome news! Let's get right on that," said Kami, and began to undo the buttons of her blouse. She looked down at the red buttons slipping out one by one from the black fabric of her shirt. She only had eight buttons, and there went the fourth. Jared sucked breath out of a horrified void and shouted, "stop that!" He angled himself to protect her from the eyes of a crowd that was not there. He hesitated, possibly because now he had a view directly down into shadows and curves.
If I beat my against this desk, maybe things will make sense," Angela murmured. "Or if I beat someone else's head against this desk...." She eyed Jared speculatively
Angela spared a glare for Kami, and then resumed her marathon glaring session at Jared. 'It's too weird. I'm going to call you Carl.' Jared scowled. 'I don't want you to call me Carl.' 'That's interesting, Carl,' said Angela, cheering up.
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