Quotes from Elise Allen

One of the cashiers had taken to calling out, "Hey, Clark!" as I came in and marking my exit with "It's a bird, it's a plane, it's SuperGoth!" This was not only tiresome but inaccurate. There's a huge difference between goth and emo, but I never had the time or energy to give him a tutorial.

See?" I crowed. "I know what I'm doing. Two weeks, tops, and you'll be begging to dip your fries in my shake." "You think?" It took me about a second before I realized I'd done it again. My mouth seriously needed a chaperone.

I realized my hands were in my pockets. He couldn't hold one even if he wanted to. Not unless he actively dug it out, which would be weird. He probably thought I was sending him a specific message not to hold my hand. I took my hands out of my pockets. The problem is I like having my hands in my pockets. It's my natural position. They felt unwieldy hanging by my sides, as if I was walking like a Neanderthal. Why was I so bad at this?

Archer pressed a preset button on my car radio. An old Britney Spears song blared, and I sung along to every word, bopping in my seat. Archer just looked at me. "Oh, come on!" I said. "Who doesn't sing along to Britney?

It's our song," he murmured into my ear.

Know what you get when you rearrange the letters in Nate Wetherill? HATE WILL ENTER.

What is wrong with you? ARe you the only guy in the universe who doesn't like a blow job?

Sometimes, but if you do it enough, it's harder to trip your gag reflex, which comes in very handy, if you know what I mean." I did know what she meant, but somehow juxtaposing it with vomiting made the whole thing highly unappealing.

My curls defined me; even my personality was curly, bouncy, springy, and playfully twisted.

intergalactic-

I start to run down the hill, but did I mention I can't feel my feet? They slip out from under me. I tumble head over heels, down, down, down until I splash into a stream. The icy water soaks through my clothes and bites into my skin. Why couldn't Elsa have had warm magical powers?

He grabs ropes, furs, blankets, a hatchet, and carrots. Carrots? Okay, so he likes vegetables.

He's lying against a bale of hay and talking to his reindeer. That's odd. No, wait—he is singing to his reindeer. That's even odder.

With all my might, I heave the axe into the ice, just inches from Kristoff's head. Oops.

I do," Olaf says. "Love is putting someone else's needs before yours, like, you know, how Kristoff brought you back here to Hans and left you forever.

Some people are worth melting for," he says.

I feel Elsa's arms around me. I can hear her crying. That's weird for a lot of reasons. Elsa doesn't cry, and she never puts her arms around me.

You sacrificed yourself for me?" "I love you," I say weakly.

Hands down, this is the best day of my life," Olaf says as he begins to drip into a puddle, "and quite possibly the last.

As for Kristoff, well, maybe Olaf was right. Maybe Kristoff does truly love me. I think I truly love him. At least, I think I could truly love him. We only met a couple of days ago. I don't want to think about true love yet.

I lean in quickly and kiss him. "We may," I say.

button that third time. Pavlov's

Did I say I wasn't ready to think about true love? Maybe I'll take that back.

I've been following Elsa, but I can't see Arendelle anymore.