I Can Be A Good

I Pulled Out Box After Box, Setting Them Haphazardly Around The Room. My Organization Lacked Something - Like, Say, Organization.

Do You Want Me To Call You Celery Stick Instead Of Cupcake Or Honey-pie? It Just Doesn’t Inspire The Same Warm And Fuzzy Feelings.

A Gun. I Had Been Brought Down By A Gun. It Was Practically Comical. Cheaters, I Thought.

So Much Grief, So Much Anger. So Unlike The Usual Adrian.

"well, You've Finally Got A License To Kill. It's About Time." I Turned And Met The Amused Eyes Of Christian Ozera, A Onetime Annoyance Who'd Become A Good Friend. So Good, In Fact, That In My Joyous Zeal, I Reached Out And Hugged Him - Something He Clearly Didn't Expect. I Was Surprising Everyone Today. "whoa, Whoa," He Said Backing Up, Flushing. "it Figures. You're The Only Girl Who'd Get All Emotional About The Thought Of Killing. I Don't Even Want To Think About What Goes On When You And Ivashkov Are Alone."