Jack didn’t know shit about alcohol, but every time someone shot the scotch, Eric frowned.Clara wasn’t a sad drunk, evidently. Happy drunk. Genuin...ly happy. There were a lot of smiles going around. Well, the war was over, and as much as it sucked that Azamel was dead, she left the city in a pretty good place, all things considered. The monsters had Sándor to protect them, and that dude was ridiculously strong. And now, everyone was cooperating on the weird tears problem. Was it so wrong to just. I’m feeling so confused.”“He’s exactly your type.”“I didn’t know I had a type. I’ve never even had one boyfriend. How can I have a type?”“Big solid football players. They’re the ones you always check out.”“Oh!”I thought about that. Then I figured out why. I blushed.“Oh!” I said again.I looked down at my hands.“He’s exactly my type,” I whispered even more quietly.We were already whispering quietly. It’s hard to whisper even more quietly but somehow I managed it.“Was there any tongue?” asked. More

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