“But a
few rounds had the same effect as a trip to Pinocchio’s Pleasure Island: anyone
could turn into an ass.”
“Fuck.
That. Shit.”
“She
straightened, a distinct, uncomfortable pride burgeoning in her chest. She was
no show-off, but when she did a good job, she wanted her A+, dammit. And if she
literally and figuratively kicked ass at bartending, she wanted them to know
it.”
“And so,
at two that same night—or the next morning, depending—Bailey set off for Nero’s
Griddle on Belmont for what Zane had promised would be “an indoctrination
session, but with pancakes.”
“Chivalry
is dumb,” she said. “But so’s being cold.”
“He was a
grown-up, and Bailey was just a teenager who’d gotten old.”
“The mean
streets of Ravenswood were hardly mean, but Bailey had never felt more wary of
them.”
“She much
preferred to reserve hugging for the people who really mattered, but in the
last few years society had decided that brief embraces were the best way to
greet everyone everywhere.”
“And if
you’re gonna color outside the lines again, make sure you pick the lines
that’re really fucking asking for it.”
“The
grown-up who says they know what they’re doing is a grown-up who’s lying.”
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