“Tell me a secret.” Blue/Gansey, The Raven Cycle
300 Fox Way was dark and quiet, and the roar of the Pig coming up the lane was like yelling a secret at the top of your lungs instead of whispering it carefully against the soft shell of an ear.
Blue tucked her hair up with tiny clips and trembling fingers. The evening was cold and slow, perfect for ley line spelunking. It was more fluid, less reliable in the middle of the night, but the pulse was stronger, and they were less likely to get caught and therefore less likely to have to endure a lengthy diatribe with whatever hapless landowner who decided to go up against Gansey when adventure was on the line.
Blue examined herself in the rippled mirror. Perhaps she liked her face better if one eye were bigger than the other. Like a Picasso come to life.
“Tell me a secret,” she whispered, and she hoped the boy behind the wheel of the car come to take her away would never ask her for hers.