You Can Call Me Patch. No Really.

For Someone Who’s Made It Clear That Her Life Is Superior To Every Other Student’s At This School, You Sure Make It A Habit Of Pursuing Every Facet Of Our Boring, Worthless Lives.

I Wrinkled My Nose, Trying To Figure Out What He Smelled Like. Not Cigarettes. Something Richer, Fouler. Cigars.

I Was Tired Of Admiring Your Legs From A Distance.

He Grinned. “busted. I’m A Monster. Jev Is My Deceptively Harmless — And Shockingly Handsome — Alter Ego.” “and I’m On Top Of It,” She Announced With Witty Triumph. “is That A Freudian Slip?” His Bluntness Caught Her Off Guard. A Self-conscious Blush Rose In Her Face.

Door’s Locked,” He Said. “and We Have Unfinished Business.