“Sean's a creep! You're better than this!" She stands, glaring at me. "I am better than this. I'm better than Sean, and I'm better than the Watchers, and you have no idea what I'm doing, so keep your judgy eyebrows to yourself." "My eyebrows are not judgy!" "Your eyebrows are so judgy they might as well have a gavel!" We both glare at each other. I crack first. "Can they have a frilly white collar like Ruth Bader Ginsburg?" She tries to hold her stern look, but the edges are trembling. "No. Your eyebrows have to wear a huge gross wig because we're not in the USA, we're in Ireland." I snort, which turns into a giggle. Artemis was never one for giggling, but even she grins at me, and for a few precious moments we're each other's again.”
Book:Chosen
