"I got better." Rose pronounced the words with the solemn reverence due Shakespeare, which was stupid, since everyone who had taken sixth-grade English knew that was Mark Twain.

"It's not as much fun as it sounds like." Though, to be honest, dying didn't really sound like fun. Even when Dave was trying to make it sound like popping down to the corner store for vodka and milk. It was less fun than that to experience. "Were you worried about me?"

She meant it to come out sarcastically. Which it did, if one was listening with the emotional acuity of a fellow 13-year-old.