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“What kind of treasure?” “Books.”
You like to demand explanations and then tell everyone why their explanations are crap.”
“Shouldn’t you be at football practice?” “I’m not on the team.” She scratches the goat behind its ears. “Since when do ya let that stop you?”
He literally just watches cuz of Baz
I really, really hate to talk to Simon about Baz. It’s like talking to the Mad Hatter about tea. I hate to encourage him.
It’s unnecessarily grandiose to use an “Open Sesame” on the doors, but I do it anyway because I know everyone will be in the dining hall, and I may as well make an entrance.
His head whips up, and his face is all twisted. He looks like I’ve already laid into him.
“I thought she liked me,” he says. “I saved her from a kitchen skink!” “Yes, well she likes me for who I am.”
I’m thinking violent thoughts at you constantly.”
“I’ll bet your room is covered in pixie dust,” Baz says, shuddering.
“Baz …” he says again. And I wait for him to get it out. “You’re—you’re wearing jeans.”
Thirty-seven years old, rolling my own joints in my dressing gown, eating bikkies for breakfast whenever I manage to get up—I’m a disgrace.
Half of Snow’s sentences are shrugs.
Penny’s already eyeing the library bookshelves lustfully.
“Nobody’s seducing a vampire,” I say. Baz frowns at me.
I also should have thought through their whole love-triangle dynamic before I dragged Agatha to Baz’s house. But their whole love-triangle dynamic is so persistently stupid, you can’t blame me for blocking it out.
