Yellow police tape stretched across the motel room door. I stood beside it, waiting for Mr. Stick-Up-His-Butt to finish up in the office.

Listen, I gather you have a problem working with a psychic. Believe me, I don’t like working with a jackass any better.

I pray every night that you’ll fall victim to some strange and unusual castration accident.

Gabriel Toscano. Damn. Even his name was sexy.

Kendra was on Gabriel like a predator on a slab of meat.

A sea of people in red crowded around it. I looked atMallory’s black hoodie and my gray sweater and realized we’d forgotten to wear the school colors. Oh, well. There was always my hair.

I hate procrastinating, so much so that I often do my homework on Friday so it won’t be hanging over my head all weekend long. The goodthing is, my (nonexistent) social life doesn’t usually interfere with this quirk of mine.

He was never one to care whether a person was popular or not. Exhibit A … me.

Perry would disown me for wearing a Yankees sweatshirt, but he would never know, and I was too cold to care about team loyalty.

She’d probably slap me upside the head and say some variation of 'Hey, Future Clare, wtf?