Yeah,” Nicole said, her straw noisily hitting the
bottom of her Gut Buster. “Well, I would have
appreciated it if you guys had wrecked a little less
stuff. Because my house smelled like smoke for
months. And construction on the Tarantinos’ new
garage starts at eight on the dot every morning, and
it’s still going on, and you know how I get if I don’t
have my full ten hours of beauty sleep.”
“So that’s what happened to your face,” Cody said.
“I was wondering.

Author: Meg Cabot