Stay where I am? Jesus Christ, what choice do I have? This house is twenty-five hundred square feet of tomb. I'm not alive. I'm buried alive.

Better be," Eve said. She mock-bit at his finger. "I could totally date somebody else, you know."
"And I could rent out your room."
"And I could put your game console on eBay."
"Hey," Shane protested. "Now you're just being mean.

Eve: She told me last!
Shane: Boyfriend!
Michael: Landlord!
Eve: Crap. Right. Next time you sell your soul to the devil, I get first contact!

Parents had some kind of sin radar, Claire thought. They always called when you were in the middle of something you just knew they'd consider wrong. Or at least risky.

I'll do it!"
"No, you won't," Shane and Michael said, at virtually the same time. Shane continued. "You're barely on your feet, Claire. You don't go anywhere, not without me."
"And me," Michael said.
"Hell," Eve sighed. "I guess that means I have to go, too. Which I may not ever forgive you for, even if I don't die horribly.

Anybody else think that was weird?' Shane asked as they got into the car. Eve sent him an exasperated glance; the three of them were, of course, in the backseat. Amelie had the front, with Michael.

'Ya think? In general, or in particular?'

'Weird that we got through the entire thing, and I didn’t have to hit anybody.'

There was a moment of silence. Michael said, as he started the car, 'You’re right, Shane. That is strange.